


Baby, Your Laugh Is Rock and Roll Magic

by xxxholicmaniac



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bobby's a really good foster parent, Cas' a cat person, Dean has way too many rules, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hunters and Angels are shady gangs, I have a Pinterest board inspired by this story, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by rock and roll songs, Lots of Music, M/M, Multi, Other, Sam and Dean Winchester have a really bad childhood until Bobby takes them, Sam gets to have a dog, Some Fluff, Some travel around Latin America, Supernatural AU - Freeform, The boys go to a Catholic School and Fergus' a Priest, some domestic life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-01-15 22:17:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21260528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxholicmaniac/pseuds/xxxholicmaniac
Summary: For the record, it's not exactly the first time Dean thinks he saw Castiel out of the corner of his eye. It used to happen a lot at first, when Cas bolted without much as a word and they thought his shady past had finally caught up with him--- to be more specific, the Atlanta Angels, a gang intrinsically connected with Cas' family. But after a few years of unsuccessful and nerve wracking search, Dean kinda gave up on ever seen him again. Emphasis on "kinda". After all, that was why his mind played tricks on him, right? Because deep down, Dean couldn't let go just yet.Anyways, almost fifteen years had gone by and Dean thought he'd had more than enough time to actually move on. He certainly had a whole different life now. Sure, it wasn't the regular apple pie and white picket fence kind of life, but it was pretty damn close. And yet, there he was again, hallucinating Castiel on the sidewalk and freaking out about it. Damnit, back to freaking square one.But what's worse than your mind playing tricks on you? Well, your mind *not* playing tricks on you.Because as it turned out, Cas' back in town. This time for real.Oh shit indeed.





	1. Castiel

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hello there and welcome to my second Supernatural AU story. I didn't think I would get here, honestly, but then I get in the zone and just keep writing.  
I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing. Hit me in the comments and let me know what you think, I would love to hear your thoughts. 
> 
> Also (disclaimer), English is not my first language and I don't have a beta reading sidekick so I'm open to suggestions and constructive critics. 
> 
> Also, I have a Pinterest board inspired by this story and a playlist, should I share that as well?
> 
> („• ֊ •„)

> The night breaks your glass selling illusions 
> 
> and leaves you bits of dreams scattered around the corners.
> 
> But baby, your laugh is rock and roll magic,
> 
> Tattooed I carry the mark of your stings. 
> 
> "El ángel de los perdedores" by El Soldado ft. Indio Solari
> 
> [Take me to Spotify!](https://open.spotify.com/track/2WE7vQVhCBf8E9COHIK7uP?context=spotify%3Aplaylist%3A37i9dQZF1DWZU5DGR2xCSH&si=kFrwc_q-SO6oI1SPN8RtLg)

THURSDAY

Sioux Falls hasn't changed that much. It's a long walk to Bobby's house from the bus station, but Castiel isn't exactly in a hurry, and with twenty three bucks to his name and some spare change, there's not much discussion about transportation methods. So he walks. It's truly a lovely June afternoon. The rain that woke him up on the bus has since stopped. Everything was washed over and looks oddly bright. The cloudy sky is slowly turning pink. He rolls a tobacco cigarette and keeps strolling through the city. He tries not to think much about what he's doing besides the smoking and the walking. He can't really afford it. He can't afford much these days, if he cares to be honest, but sure as hell he can afford some gummy bears. He makes a stop at a Gas-n-Sip and asks for the bathroom. The clerk, a teenage boy barely out of puberty, isn't very happy about it but points out the way anyways. Cas takes the chance to brush his teeth and tries to look less of a bump, which proves to be rather futile. He takes a minute to collect himself and not smash his head against the mirror reflection. He walks out the bathroom, gets the gummy bears, some gum and a bottle of water and pays for everything, trying to make the transaction as smooth and civilized as possible. And then he's back on the sidewalk, East, towards Bobby's house. As he fumbles with the gummy bears package, three things happen simultaneously: he hears the rumble of a thunder faraway, a Chevy Impala makes a turn around the corner, and his body shuts down.

* * *

SUNDAY

"Who are _you_?" Cas turns around to look at the boy standing behind him. He hesitates for a second and all he managed to reply is _uhm_.

"We're not supposed to be here with the bees," the boy continues.

"I'm just checking on them," he begins walking away from the hives.

"Does Grandpa know you're here?"

Cas squints at him.

"Grandpa?"

"He means Bobby," the little girl pops out of nowhere and comes to stand between him and by the looks of it, her brother.

"Are you Bobby's friend?" 

"I'm friends with Bobby, yes," he explains but the little girl keeps looking suspiciously at him.

"I'm Jack and this is Emmy," the boy chimes with a big smile.

"It's _Emma_," she corrects him.

"Nice to meet you Emma, Jack," he can't help but to stands there awkwardly.

"Now it's your turn," Jack chips in.

"To tell us your name," she sounds a bit exasperated like she shouldn't be explaining introduction protocols to grown-ups. And she's absolutely right.

He shields his eyes with his hand. The sun burns bright in the morning sky and it slowly dawns on him that these might be Sam's kids. It makes sense. It makes sense and he feels horrible about it. 

"Right, um, I'm Castiel," he mutters. 

"That's a weird name," Jack whispers making a funny face.

"Uncle Cas?" Emma's expression goes from slightly irritated to confusion to incredulous to hopeful and now Castiel is definitely freaked out.

"He's Uncle Cas?" Jack echoes Emma's words with surprise and warmth and Cas feels like passing out.

"Guys? C'mere!" A man voice cuts through the hot air and the trees.

"C'mon Jack, let's go," Emma takes Jack's hand and starts dragging him towards the house. 

"But I want to stay here with Cas! I want to see the bees!" Jack complains but offers no resistance.

"We can see the bees later, c'mon," Emma spares one more glance at Cas, her expression stern and serious, and then they are out of sight.

And now he can barely think. He looks around not sure what to do when he hears footsteps quickly approaching.

"_YOUSONOFABITCH_!" The giant hisses and his enormous right hook connects with his jaw and all pretense of verticality is lost. The oversized human gets on top of him and grabs him by the collar of his t-shirt, yanking his head up.

"_FUCKINGSELFISHASSHOLE_!" Another punch to the nose sends him back to the ground but he's yanked back up.

"WE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD! CHECK MORGUES AND HOSPITALS FOR YEARS! YEARS!" Another punch and this time he's not yanked back up.

"SOME FUCKING NERVE YOU HAVE SHOWING UP HERE!" Another two punches. 

"Sam! That's enough!" 

Holy fucking shit.

"I'm gonna rip your lungs out! Fucking asshole!"

"I said cut it out! NOW!" 

Now, fun fact. 

This used to be the other way around. Sam pleading Dean to stop. Dean was supposed to be the one with the temper. Dean was supposed to be the one punching him to pulp. Dean was supposed to still care enough to beat the shit out of him because he, after all, deserves it. 

"Look, man, it ain't worth it," Dean's deep, deep, voice is barely a hush now, but it's enough to get Sam off him.

"Seriously? Un. Fucking. Believable." Sam's voice is strained with fury.

"Hey! Look at me!"

"WHAT?"

"Take the kids. Go home."

A sigh. 

Footsteps backing away.

"Fucking asshole," a low mutter barely audible. "The nerve. Fucker."

And then it's just Dean and him. 

"Can you stand up?" Cas can barely move. Or breath. Or think. He feels rather than see Dean crouching by his side. He tries to say something but he chokes on his blood. Tries to open his eyes but the left one is already swelling and the other one has too much blood in it. 

"I'll take that as a no," Dean grabs him by the wrists and yanks him up to a sitting position. He spits some of the blood and tries to wipe some more off his good eye using the back of his hand, but it's a freaking mess. He goes for the hem of his t-shirt instead and pulls it to his face. He doesn't need to look into a mirror to know he's gonna need stitches.

"I think he broke my nose," he manages to say and Dean huffs.

"Well, you've seen him do much worse for a lot less."

He tries to laugh, not because he thinks there's anything remotely funny, on the contrary, it was supposed to be a stressed laugh, a _Sam wants kill me and now he's built-up for the task_ sort of nervous response, but all he managed is a low gurgling sound. 

A minute goes by in silence. 

The Impala roars somewhere in the distance.

And that seems to be Dean's cue to help him stand up. 

"C'mon, let's get you clean."

Cas leans down the sink to wash his face. His nose is broken but not displaced, so he should be fine in a couple of weeks. The rest of his face, however, it's a different story. Dean hands him a clean towel and gestures the chair. 

"Sam..." He trails off for a moment as he pats his face. "Has grown _up_," he finishes the thought and sits down. Dean hums in agreement and puts on some black rubber gloves, thread and needle ready, and then pulls up a chair to sit in front of him.

"A'right," he says inspecting Cas' nose. "Broken but not displaced. You should be fine. Now let's fix that cut." 

Dean takes a deep breath. Cas feels him hovering over his face, his fingers lightly pushing the needle through his busted eyebrow with an expertise Cas didn't remember. The proximity makes him shuffled in his seat.

"I'm almost done," Dean whispers and sure, he would recognize his voice anywhere, no doubt about it, but there's a significant depth to it that he can't recall being there before. Dean's chair creeks, he feels a little tug as he cuts the thread and then the warmth radiating from him is gone.

Cas opens his eyes and watches Dean over the table as he goes through a definitely bigger and better first aid kit. He was never squeamish around blood, so the gloves strikes him as odd. Dean takes a small package out of a box and tears it open with his teeth.

"Antiseptic wipes," he purses his lips in what it's supposed to be a reassuring grin but it definitely misses the mark. He sits back down in front of him. Cas tries not to think about Dean carefully wiping the blood out of his face. His touch is soft and thoughtful. The chair creeks again and the warmth goes away with it.

"I have Elsa, Peppa and some random magical girls," Dean _tsks_ and Cas has no idea what the hell is he talking about. He shows him a box of band aids clearly aimed for children.

He shrugs.

"Elsa it is," he picks one but this time he doesn't sit back down. He puts the band-aid over the stitches in his brow and assesses Cas injuries with a blank expression.

"Peas," he snaps his fingers and goes to the fridge. He pulls a bag of frozen peas out and tosses it at him. Cas catches it and puts it over his nose. Dean takes off the rubber gloves and throws them in a bin under the sink. Then he begins tidying up, putting everything back inside the box. Cas mindlessly touches the band-aid over his eyes.

"Don't pick on the stitches," he scolds and he wasn't even looking in his direction.

"How old are they?"

"Uh?" 

"Jack and Emma," Cas shifts in his seat.

"Six," he takes the box back to whatever room he got it from.

Twins. Sam has twins. And they call Bobby _Grandpa_. Probably call Dean _Uncle Dean_. Fuck, they called _him_ Uncle Cas. _Uncle Cas_. Like he's family.

Dean comes back and goes to the fridge. He takes the lemonade and pours himself a glass. He puts the jar back inside and sips his lemonade leaning against the counter.

"Dean," he was aiming to continue with the rest of the sentence but can't line up a single coherent thought behind his name.

Dean sighs.

"Is there anyone after you?" He puts the empty glass in the sink.

"What?" He frowns.

"I'm guessing you must be really out of options if you decided to show up. So... Is anyone after you? Do we need to worry about anyone on either side of the fence showing up here looking for you?"

"No," the bag of peas suddenly feels heavy. Dean looks at him, really looks at him. The weight he used to feel whenever Dean focused his impossible green eyes on him is gone. Instead, the candor has been replaced with a mild skepticism and a whole lot of freezing indifference.

Dean stares at him. Burns cold holes on him.

"You don't need to worry," he puts the peas back on his nose.

Dean sighs again.

"If you need money, a car or whatever you call _me_, aight? Bobby's been saving for a trip to Japan and I don't want you messing up with his plans," he gets back to his feet, gets his phone out of his pocket, checks it and puts it back inside. Then he reaches for his wallet, takes a couple of bills and leaves them on the table.

"To get around," he taps the bills with the tip of his index finger.

And then he's out the door.

* * *

WEDNESDAY

Fergus holds his hand a moment longer than necessary. He expected a comment of some sort about what he said back at the meeting, but Fergus refrained.

"I was thinking maybe I can set you up with someone."

Cas frowns for a second.

"You mean a sponsor?"

Fergus smiles mischievously.

"Naturally. At least for the time being."

Cas sighs.

"I don't know how long I'm gonna stick around."

"All the more reason. I can speak with Joshua if you like."

"I'd like that."

"And you can drop by anytime you like. Outside the meetings and the confessional."

"Thank you, Fergus."

He squeezes his shoulder and smiles at him, like he knows a secret. But that would be an understatement.

Bobby's waiting for him in the parking lot. And he's not alone. Emma's sitting on the back seat with a soccer uniform and a little black and purple duffel bag next to her. Her face remains blank as he climbs in.

"Hello Emma," he tries to sound friendlier than their last encounter.

"Hi," she replies sheepishly. Bobby starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot.

"Girls night was cancelled," Bobby explains. "So she will be staying with us tonight."

Cas nods in agreement and a minute goes by in silence.

"You play soccer?" He realizes he doesn't know how to talk with children.

Emma huffs.

"What gave me away?" She mutters clearly unimpressed, and Cas chuckles.

"_Emma_..." Bobby warns her.

"No, she's right. That was an awful opening line. May I have a do over?"

"Go ahead," he can hear in her voice he just perked her interest.

"Thank you," Cas takes a long breath. "How about... Uhm... _So you had soccer practice today, huh_?"

"Sounds like a waste to me, you already know _that_."

"True," he hums. "How about _I'm sorry to hear your girls night was cancelled_?"

"I think you can do better," she almost sneers.

"This is _hard_."

"Take your time," she sounds amused.

"Bobby? A little help?"

"No cutting corners!" Emma's scolds and Cas chuckles again.

"You heard her," Bobby shrugs clearly entertained.

"Fffffffine," Cas rolls his eyes. "What about... Food? How do you feel about food talk?"

"I'm listening."

"What if I we discuss dinner plans?"

"Grandpa asked me that already."

"Darn it, Bobby!"

Emma chuckles and it's a wonderful sound.

"Do you want to guess what I said?"

"Pizza?"

"Nope."

"But you _do _like pizza, right?"

"Of course I like pizza, I just want to keep up with the tradition."

"They usually have sushi on girls night," Bobby sounds so proud.

"You like sushi?" Cas turns in his seat to look at Emma.

"Uh-huh," Emma grins widely.

"She's really good with the chopsticks."

"I can't top that." Cas looks back ahead. "Unless..." He hums.

"Unless?" Emma echoes.

"Unless we make the pizza ourselves..."

Bobby huffs and shakes his head.

"You mean from scratch?"

"Yes, I mean dough, sauce and toppings, all hands on deck."

"The whole nine?" Bobby chips in.

"We have all it takes, why not?" Cas wonders.

"What do you say, sweetheart?"

"I'd like that," Emma can't hide her enthusiasm.

When they get back to the house, Bobby takes Emma upstairs for bath time and Cas gets started in the kitchen. He gets everything they need on the counter and then he prepares the dough. By the time Emma comes downstairs, she's beaming at him. 

"Did you enjoy your bath?"

She nods with a coy smile.

"You smell _really _good."

"That's the shampoo Red made for me," she runs her fingers through her ponytail.

"It's solid," Bobby adds walking in with the first aid kit box.

"What happened? Did you get hurt?"

"Just a little cut. Sit down, sweetheart. Let me take a look at that."

Emma climbs to sit on the table and immediately stiffens.

"She's a little squeamish around blood," Bobby explains as he puts a pair of rubber gloves, just like Dean did, and kneels down to look at her knee. 

"I'm not squeamish," she sneers. "I just don't want your germs all over me. Especially not in my blood. That's different." Emma gives him a dirty look and Bobby laughs it off.

By the way, it's not a little cut at all. But she was wearing knee high socks, so maybe that's why he completely missed it. He can tell she's very uncomfortable.

"So, Emma. The dough is resting. The yeast needs to do the work." Emma turns to look at him and her gaze soon follows him around the kitchen.

"I have regular and red onions, these beautiful bell peppers, and tomatoes for the sauce. We need to decide the toppings. Did you have anything in mind?"

"Mushrooms?"

"Good call. I thought of that too." He shows her the package. "What else?"

"Cheese?"

"Mozzarella. Right here. How about blue cheese?"

She wrinkles her nose.

"No blue cheese, got it. What about pepperoni?"

"Pepperoni sounds good. But what about bacon?"

It's Cas turn to laugh.

"Whaaaaat?" She blushes.

"Sorry, bacon sounds good. Crispy bacon and mushrooms it's a hella good combo."

"We're almost done." Bobby stands up and she whips her neck to meet his eyes and then she looks at her knee. And then at Cas. She squints at him like _I know what you did there_ but Cas plays dumb and just smiles.

"Elsa?" Bobby shows her the band-aid and she nods. He carefully applies it and Emma relaxes entirely.

"All done," he pats her knee.

"Great! Shall we get started here?" Cas beams at her and Emma jumps off the table.

"I need my apron. And my ladder," she points at Bobby.

"I'll get your apron. The ladder is in the living room where you left it."

"Awesome," Emma nods once and runs out of the kitchen.

"Is she allow to use a knife?"

"Only under supervision. Same as the stove. But she really likes to wash things, that alone will keep her happy," Bobby hands him a kid size apron from one of the drawers.

Emma walks back inside with a two step ladder and places it by the sink.

"I need to get a little bit of work done before dinner, are you two gonna be fine?"

"We got it, Grandpa! Can I put a record on?"

"Sure. But keep it cool, alright?"

"Yes!" She runs back out.

"Let me know if you need anything. I'll be in the study."

"Sure Bobby."

It takes a while for Emma to come back, but when she does Cas can hear the music playing in the background. 

She points at the apron in his hand.

"Oh, right," Cas helps her with it and then he realizes it reads _I'm not short, I'm concentrated awesome_ and that puts another soft smile on his face.

"_What _is _that_?" Cas mutters trying to figure out the music.

"Cas, we're making pizza," she rolls her eyes. 

"Of course," he nods. "We need opera."

They get along just fine, better than fine by Cas standards. Emma's one of the sassiest little kid he ever met. Just like Bobby told him, she really liked to wash _everything_: veggies, pans, cutlery, the counters, the table. It seems she's squeamish around germs in general.

They talked about small things, mostly about what they were doing or needed to be done next. When _Il Barbieri di Siviglia_ ended, Emma didn't go for another record. They were both in comfortable silence. 

"Cas, can we save a slice for Dad?"

"Better yet, we can make an individual pizza for him. Like this size, so he can have more crust." 

Truth was there weren't enough pizza pans, but Bobby had smaller pans. Emma nod like it was a good idea.

"What about Jack? Should we make a pizza for him as well?"

"Jack came down with the flu. He's with Aunt Leen. She got the bug too."

"Oh, sorry to hear that." 

So there's a woman in Dean's life and her name is Leen. 

"Everyone got the bug. That's why we had to cancel girls night."

"Well, but it kinda turned out OK, right?" He ventures. Emma turns around to look at him. Her smile is soft and her cheeks are a bit flushed. She nods coyly.

"Maybe we can do this again...?" She wonders.

"I'd like that," and he meant it.

When Cas admitted he had never seen _Frozen_, Emma insisted they watched it together over dinner. So they did. After that and Bobby's profuse compliments on their work with the pizza, it was Cas time to pick the movie they would watch over ice cream. So he went for _Labyrinth_. Bobby excused himself and retrieved to his office to watch a game, which meant Emma could push Cas into fetching a second bowl of ice cream. She seemed to enjoy the movie although she was very vocal about her dislike of goblins. 

"They look dirty," she pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose. 

When the movie ended, they switched to cable and skimmed through the channels until they settled for a Scooby Doo rerun. Sometime before the gang found out which crooked real estate agent was behind the mask, Emma felt asleep.

"Em, your Dad's here," Bobby whispered and Cas stirred in his dreams. Emma hummed a _mkay _and sprawled against Cas' side which definitely woke him up. 

He didn't remember falling asleep at all.

He aims for a sitting position and tries to rub the sleep off his face. 

_Shit_.

Cas tries to focus. There seems to be movement in the kitchen.

_Sam came to pick up Emma_.

He haven't seen either Winchester since Sam broke his nose and Dean patched him up almost two weeks ago. Looks like they are deliberately keeping their distance. Maybe Sam reached out for help only because Jack's under the weather.

Fair enough.

He walks toward the kitchen and now he can hear Bobby's voice more clearly.

"She's sleeping just fine. Why don't you let her stay for the night?"

"Naw-ah."

That almost sounded like Dean.

"You said the same last time and you had to drive her back at four in the morning."

He steps inside and sure enough, there's Dean. Dean leaned over the counter chowing down Sam's pizza. But there's no Sam in sight. Maybe he's waiting in the car?

"_Ohmygod!_" Dean moans around a stuffed mouth and closes his eyes. 

"Do you need some time alone with that?" Bobby huffs and takes a swing at his beer.

"Did you make this?" Dean looks at the slice with renewed interest but he's talking to Bobby. He has his back to the door and doesn't seem to have noticed Cas standing there.

"It was a team effort," Cas comments leaning against the door frame and Dean turns to look at him.

"_You _made this?" He raises one eyebrow but there's no sting to his words. 

"Like I said, teamwork," he repeats and eyes cautiously at Bobby. Should he leave them alone? Bobby gives a _it's OK_ kind of nod.

"Dude," Dean goes for another bite. "_The crust is so crusty_," he keeps moaning with his mouth full.

Those sounds along with that face do something to Cas but he has no time to ponder the implications of it because Emma's up.

"Daddy?" Her voice cuts through the heat pooling in his lower belly faster than a lighting.

_Daddy?_

"Hey munchkin," Dean puts down the beer and the pizza on the counter and wipes his mouth with a paper napkin. Emma walks towards him and puts her arms up. Dean effortlessly scoops her up and she wraps herself around his neck and torso. And Cas watches the whole scene in utter shock. 

"Did you have fun?" He kisses the crown on her head and she buries her face deeper in the crook of his neck.

"Wanna go home?" He whispers in her ear and Emma nods.

"I'll get her bag. Uniform's in the dryer, be right back." Bobby walks right past Cas, who keeps frozen by the door.

Emma mumbles something but her words are muffled.

"What was that, baby?"

Emma pushes away enough to be heard.

"I said, stupid Benji pushed me today."

"Again?" Dean's tone is thoughtful.

"Yes, I hurt my knee." She mindlessly rubs her knee. "Coach Shane put him on time out. And he spoke with his Mom. He pushed Sasha too. Made her cry."

"That. Little. Tiny. _Ugh_." Dean really tries not to swear. "I'm gonna talk to his Mom. Don't worry." 

Emma hugs him even closer and Dean hugs her back, with so much love it's breathtaking.

And then he seems to remember Cas is there too, and turns his eyes to him. And finally Cas snaps out of his daze and finds himself smiling. It's an awkward smile, sure, something between _wow what the fuck exclamation point_ and _wow what the fuck question mark_. And Dean raises his eyebrow again, all quizzical. So Cas opens his mouth to say something, anything really, but Bobby comes back with Emma's bag and he misses the mark.

"OK, we're good to go, baby. Are you going to say goodnight to Cas?"

Emma turns to look at him, still sleepy eyes and messy hair from their little nap.

"Night, Cas." She whispers and it's like a kick on the guts.

"Good night, Emma," he mutters and looks back at Dean.

"Thanks for everything, guys," Dean's back to a more neutral expression.

"I'll walk you outside," Bobby gestures the kitchen door.

Cas watches the whole scene just like he sit through _Frozen_. The chips don't seem to fall where they may. He missed way too much and the weight of those blank spaces becomes overwhelming. 

He needs to do something about it or the regrets will keep piling up and they will crush him.


	2. Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mostly write on my phone which is crazy uncomfortable but then again, when the Muses visit me I don't always have my computer with me (I use Evernote because is synchronized with all my devices and that's really helpful). Also, I never write in chronological order, I don't seem to be able to keep a lineal direction. Instead, I make a timeline and place the chapters in chronological order to compensate for my fragmentary writing process.
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

> The wait wore me out,  
I don't know anything about you.  
You left so much in me.  
On fire I lay down  
And in a slow gradient  
I knew I lost you.
> 
> "Crimen" by Gustavo Cerati
> 
> [Take me to Spotify!](https://open.spotify.com/track/3oqWr0jDWNXxWufNogGREp?context=spotify%3Aplaylist%3A37i9dQZF1DWZU5DGR2xCSH&si=Yq7-UGcCQSWi7pnXWIRogg)

THURSDAY

"Who are _you_?" The boy sounds way older than he looks. He tries to move but he's clearly in pain.

"Easy there tiger. I'm Dean." He smiles that adorable little smile that gets him an extra pancake or taco at the school cafeteria. "And that's Bobby over there with the doctor. And you already met Billie, the social worker. We're here to pick you up." 

Bobby looks like a sketchy truck driver, Billie looks like a badass bouncer and the doctor, well, he's not that memorable.

The boy narrows his eyes and shifts very uncomfortable on the bed with a painful grunt. 

"Where are you taking me?"

"Sioux Falls, South Dakota."

"South Dakota?"

"That's right." He points to the tattoo in his forearm. "You an Angel?" 

Boy says nothing at all.

"Hunter," he pulls down the hem of his t-shirt to expose the tattoo on his collar bone.

"You know," he leans closer and his voice drops to a hush. "Bobby's the only one who takes kids like us. I would know, my little brother and I bounced all over," Dean looks back at Bobby and then back at him. "My brother likes it here. We like Bobby a lot. With any luck, you'll feel the same."

The boy huffs, incredulous.

"Is this the part where you tell me I should give y'all a chance or something like that?"

"Nah, man. I'm not gonna tell you what to do. I'm telling you what _not_ to do."

The boy narrows his eyes again with a sneer. Dean glances back to the adults down the hallway. Boy clearly doesn't give a shit and Bobby and Billie look like they're wrapping it up, shaking hands and nodding. 

Time for Plan B.

"OK buddy, let me rephrase that. That's Robert W. Singer, from Wichita Singer family. And I'm a Winchester, John Winchester's eldest to be precise... And _I_ know _you _know who _they _are, so... See where I'm going with this?"

Boy sees where he's going with this. 

"There's no way in hell I'm gonna let you ruin this for us. And unlike you, Krushnic, we don't get caught red handed." Dean lifts his hands and wiggles his fingers. "And these have seen plenty of red. You get the point?" 

Boy gets the point. He nods.

"Great," he pats his knee lightly and smiles brightly. "Good talk, buddy." 

* * *

SUNDAY

"Still no answer?" Sam glances at his watch and frowns. 

"Nope," and that's weird. Bobby's usually up and running at the break of dawn, even on Sundays. "Maybe he left his phone."

"Let's just go and get it. We can put it on after lunch. It shouldn't take long," he has a point. 

"I'll help Eileen and Red picking up, you watch those two. They had way too many cupcakes."

"Dad, can we get a TV in the tree house?"

"Munchkin, we talked about this."

"Uncle Sam, can we get a TV?" 

"Baby, I'm right here."

Sam chuckles.

"Sorry Em, I'm with your dad on this one."

Emma huffs.

"Dee, can we get a vending machine?"

Jack's eyes glow with sheer excitement.

"What kind of machine?"

"Dude, don't," Sam scolds.

"What?" 

"One with nougat and gummy bears?"

"I hear ya, buddy."

"Dean," warning tone on Sam's side.

"What?"

"If Jack can get a vending machine then I get a TV," Emma's throws her hands up.

"Guys, we're only fixing the roof. Besides there's no power in the tree house," Sam explains.

"Can we get one of those things Grandpa has on his shed?" Jack looks at Emma for the right word.

"A solar panel?" She frowns and Jack nods. "That's a great idea, Jack!" She high-five him. "That way we can have both a TV and a vending machine!"

"Em, enough with the TV. That's not what tree houses are for. Besides, we have a TV in the living room. And you have your iPad and your computer. No more screens."

"And no vending machines either," Sam clarifies.

Emma _tsks_ and Jack goes _oh_.

"Dee?"

"Yes, Jack."

"Can we have some book shelves?"

"Sure buddy."

"We can't leave books inside, they will get ruined," Emma rebukes. "Remember what happened to the copy of Alice in Wonderland?" 

"Emma's right," Sam points out. "We never install the windows."

"Or drywall. Or plumbing. Or isolation for the winter," Emma adds.

Sam frowns and looks at the back seat.

"What?" She smiles sheepishly.

"Where do you get this stuff?"

"We watch HGTV with Charlie and Red," she explains very casually.

"I like the Property Brothers," Jack nods. "And Chip and Joana."

"Oh man, Joana..." Dean trials off with a dreamy smile.

"Who's Joana?"

"Joanna Gaines," Dean sighs.

"Can we go to Waco sometime?" Emma asks.

"Sure, baby."

"Yes!" Jack chimes.

"What are you even talking about? What's in Waco?" Sam huffs.

"Joana's bakery." Em explains.

"Dean, can we have shiplap inside the tree house?"

"I don't know, Jack. Sam, can we have shiplap inside the tree house?"

Sam gives him a mild bitch face.

"Let's fix the roof first, shall we? Then we can take it from there."

Jack and Emma nod and Dean sighs.

"I like the redhead too," Dean continues with his dreamy smile. "The one in Indy."

"Karen?" Jack pitches in.

"No, I think he means Mina."

"Yes, Mina! She's a badass _and _a total cutie pie."

"Seriously, who are these people?"

"What's your favorite Flip or flop?" Jack continues.

"Vegas," Dean and Emma answer at the same time.

"That's Red's favorite too."

"Red sure likes the Vegas glam," Dean makes the last turn on their way to Bobby's.

"And Bristol," Jack adds.

"I think Charlie likes Audrey even more," Emma points out and Dean hums in agreement.

"I like Audrey's hair," Jack adds. 

Dean hums in agreement at that as well.

"So hot." Dean mumbles under his breath. "Wouldn't mind get flipped by both."

Sam smacks him on the shoulder.

"What? Have you seen _them_?"

Sam rolls his eyes.

"You're missing out, Sammy. Amiright guys?"

Emma and Jack agree on that.

"We're here." Sam cuts in. "Aaand the car is here too." 

"Maybe he took the truck?" He shrugs and parks on the side. They get out of the Impala and Dean helps with Jack's seatbelt while Sam's helps Emma out.

"Wanna check the backyard? We'll check the house," Sam suggests and the kids disappear around the back.

They climb the steps of the front porch and Dean goes for the door, which is unlocked.

"Bobby? You here?" Dean yells but there's no answer.

"Check upstairs. I'm gonna call his cell." Sam makes his way towards the kitchen. 

Dean goes for the stairs and something feels off. There's a... Smell? Like a hint of something... Something long forgotten.

He hears Bobby's phone ringing in his bedroom. 

"Phone's here!" He yells back at Sam.

He walks down the hallway to Bobby's bedroom and he freezes half way through.

Cas' bedroom door is ajar.

Slowly, he reaches out with his hand and pushes the door open.

The window is open as well. Curtains wave slightly with the morning breeze.

His stomach drops to the floor all the way to the basement.

The bed's unmade.

There's a military duffel bag on the desk.

Dean takes a few steps. Before he can actually think about what's he's doing, he's reaching out to grab the t-shirt resting on the back of the chair. The fabric is paper thin between his fingers. It's an old Metallica t-shirt.

There's no way.

He takes the t-shirt to his nose.

No fucking way.

He takes a whiff.

Fuck.

Cas is back.

* * *

WEDNESDAY

Dean stretches over the hood of the Impala. They parked the car just outside the football field, close enough to see Emma's soccer practice but far enough to smoke quietly and peacefully under the shadows provided by the huge trees around the field.

"Coach Shane is giving you the heart eyes," Charlie whispers and he huffs. He shields his eyes with his hand and takes another draft.

"Coach Shane brought his Toyota Camry by the shop last Tuesday for an oil check."

"And?" She nudges him.

"Coach Shane looks really pretty on his knees."

"You didn't!" She slaps his shoulder.

"Bend him over the hood. Boy took it like a pro."

"No!"

"Make him come twice. Untouched."

"You did _not_!"

"Oh but I did."

"I _told _you he was walking funny and you said nothing!" He passes the cigarette back to her.

"Of course I didn't, Sam was there, remember?"

"Oh, right. Moose interruptus."

Dean laughs.

"Sam can be such a party pooper with his rules. Look at him, just _look_!" She gestures with both hands. "How, just tell me how are you supposed to say no to _that_!"

"You don't..." He chuckles.

"I wish he had a sister..."

"I would love that too..."

"That's not fair, Dean! I called it dibs!"

"On the imaginary sister?" 

"You can't have both!"

"You can always come and watch."

"Ewwww! _Dude_!"

"We can do a rerun on the Cartwright twins."

Charlie's eyes go wide and she slaps his shoulder. 

"Yeah, remember that? That wasn't half bad..."

Charlie goes red as a tomato and tries to hide her face.

"Oh, look at you going all shy on me!" He puts his arm around her shoulder.

"I can't _believe _I let you talked me into it!"

Her voice sounds muffled.

"It was your birthday!" He teases her.

"It was the best birthday ever," she whispers.

"You're welcome," he nudges her.

"I can still rub one out thinking about it," Charlie deadpans and Dean loses it. He throws his head back and has a coughing fit. He has to take a minute to collect himself and then stands up to stretch, popping some joints.

"So, what's up with you?"

"Well..." He inhales deeply. "Cas is back in town."

"Shuddap!" Charlie almost jumps.

"Yeah. Saw him on Sunday. We went to Bobby's house and he was just... there."

"Is he OK?"

"I think so. I mean, he kinda looks like he just got out of rehab."

"And?"

"And Sam beat the shit out of him."

"_What_?"

"Yeah, Sammy was pissed. Like really pissed, like I haven't seen him in _years_."

"But did you guys talk? Did he say anything?"

"No, we didn't... talk."

"Details, I want details!"

"OK, so... We drove to Bobby's to pick up some stuff for the treehouse. He wasn't there. I went upstairs to get his phone and saw Cas bedroom door open so I walked in. Saw stuff. Bed unmade. Figured he was back. Came down, Sam was outside with the kids, they were telling him they saw Uncle Cas with the bees. Sam sprinted, I walked the kids back to the car, asked them to wait there and I run after Sam. Found him on top of Cas, punching his face like _bam bam_, you know? Cas looked like a ragdoll, didn't even put up a fight."

"Holy shit. What did you do?"

"I told Sam to cut it out and take the kids home. For a second I thought he would kick _my _ass, but he got up and took off."

"And then?"

"I waited to make sure they were gone, then helped Cas back inside. Patched him up. Asked him if he was in trouble."

"Is he?"

"He said he isn't."

"And you believe him?"

"I don't know. I can't say I do but I can't say I don't."

"Holy shit, Dean."

"I know. Sam broke his nose."

"What?"

"Yeah," he shrugs.

"Dude, I can't believe it. Castiel fucking Novak."

"I know."

"Like..."

"I know..."

"Un. Fucking. Believable."

"I know, that's what Sam said."

"So, how does he look like?"

Dean sighs and runs a hand over his face.

"That bad or that good?"

"It's weird, Charlie. So weird."

"Do you... Still...?"

Dean sighs.

"I don't know... I just don't know..."

"But how do you feel?"

He shrugs.

"I'll have to get back to you on that."

* * *

WEDNESDAY

He tugs Emma in her seat and she's already dozing off. He closes the door carefully to not disturb her and makes his way around to lean over the hood next to Bobby. He takes the cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one up.

"Are you planning on keeping that up?"

"Stress smoking," he stretches until his back pops.

"Not what I meant."

"What?"

"You know exactly _what_."

"Bobby..."

"Oh, save it. You're so full of yourself, it stopped being cute a long time ago, boy. Get a grip and get over it, you'll do everyone a favor."

"Sam broke his nose but I get the lecture?"

"Bold of you to assume I left him off the hook," and with that Bobby walks back inside. And two drafts later, Cas comes out with a plastic container.

"Dean," his fucking voice. He takes a few tentatives steps in his direction. Dean doesn't move.

"Your pizza," Cas narrows his eyes just a bit and hands him the container.

"Thanks," he hums and grabs it.

Cas just stays there, hands inside the pockets of his really worn jeans, so Dean offers a cigarette. He takes one, without making eye contact, and Dean lights it up. They take a few drafts in silence.

"I thought..." Cas begins.

Dean turns to look at him.

"When you said they were six, I thought, they were twins."

"Yeah, we get that a lot. They sure act like that."

Cas' visibly struggling to get the words out.

"Emma was born on August 19th and Jack on December 8th. Leo and Sagittarius, pretty badass combo."

Cas frowns.

"Oh, I thought..."

"You though what?" He already kinda knows the answer to that.

"You thought they were both Sam's kids, huh?"

He nods.

"That hurts my feelings, Cas." He mocks him. "I happened to be a pretty awesome Dad."

"Of course, I didn't, uhm---"

"Jack's Sam and Eileen's boy. Emma's my girl."

He hears himself saying that and frowns. Emma's my girl. Like she has no mother. That ain't right. Cas sighs and runs a hand through his face.

"I'm just trying to fill out the blanks, Dean. I'm sorry if I... I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I assumed---"

"Yeah, I get it." Dean cuts him off as he stands up again.

"Dean," he definitely didn't miss the way he was always able to convey so much meaning into his name alone.

"What?" He stomps on the bud with more force than necessary.

"I'm sorry."

"For what exactly?" He can barely stop himself from glaring.

"For everything."

"Yeah, buddy. That right there, that's the problem."

"Look... I'm not asking you to forgive me or anything. I just want to apologise. Because _I am_ sorry, Dean."

"For what, huh?" Dean snaps. "For fucking leaving without a word? For making us worry about your safety? For forcing us to check hospital and morgues, dreading every single moment of it? For what _exactly _are you apologising? You know, we went to Atlanta? We looked for you for weeks on ends..."

"Dean..."

"We were your family, Cas, and you ditched us like we were _nothing_... Like we meant _nothing _to you."

"Dean, that's not..." 

"That's not _what_?"

"I didn't... I didn't have a choice..."

"_Oh c'mon!_ That's what you're going with, _you didn't have a choice_? Jesus fucking Christ, Cas! Fifteen years and that's your excuse?"

The cigarette Cas was holding falls to the ground and that's his cue to curb his temper. 

"Look, man. I get it. Twelve steps and all that jazz. But it's late and I'm _really_ tired and I just wanna take my baby girl home, OK? Just... Thanks for the pizza."

He's already reaching for the car door when he calls to him again.

"What do you want, Castiel? You want my forgiveness, fine. You got it. I forgive you. There! We done?"

Cas looks frustrated and hurt. It's not a nice view, but screw it.

"Before... You asked me if there was anyone after me..."

"And you said no. Was that a lie?"

"No!" Cas huffs and presses his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"No one is after me, Dean. That's the whole point."

And with that, he hastily turns around and runs back inside.

Dean carries Emma back inside and puts her to bed without much fuss. He notices the band-aid as he takes her shoes off.

"Freaking Benji, man."

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Is Cas OK?"

"Yeah, he's OK."

"Are you OK?"

"Uh-huh."

"I heard you fight..."

_Fucking great_.

"Go back to sleep, you little gremlin."

"You the gremlin," she chuckles.

"Good night, baby girl."

"Night, Daddy."

"_Dude_," Sam has his mouth stuffed with his pizza.

"That's mine," he points out to the plastic container and does the grabby hands.

"Uh-uh," he holds the container closer to him. "Where did you get it?"

"Cas made it."

Sam chokes and starts coughing.

"You need to stop raiding my kitchen at two am," he hands him a beer bottle.

Sam gulps some liquid and starts breathing normally after some time.

"Cas? Cas made this? The same guy who almost burn down the house making pancakes?"

Dean chuckles. 

"Yeah, we were tripping on acid that time."

"Unbelievable, and yet, not surprised," Sam rubs his chest. 

Dean takes a few sips of his beer and Sam finally hands over the pizza.

"So, did Bobby give you the _get over yourself_ speech?"

"Yeah, he was rather succinct but I got the idea."

"And?"

Dean shrugs.

"Well, I don't like this arrangement, man. I don't like to keep my distance from Bobby just because Cas' staying with him. I don't like to keep Jack away from his Grandpa. I really don't. But I can't pretend everything is OK with Cas been there. Because is not."

"Hey, I didn't like the idea of leaving Emma there either. But that's what we do when our plans goes sideways, right? We rely on our family and friends. Girls night gets cancelled, we call Bobby. If Claire can't make it, we call Charlie or Red for backup. Right? And besides, Emma had a good time. She even felt asleep on the couch."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I'm just saying... I haven't seen him in years, it's not like I _know _him anymore. How am I suppose to trust him?"

"Bobby does," Dean sighs. "That should count for something, right?"

"Maybe. It's not like he trusts him blindly. I mean, most likely Bobby knows what he has been up this whole time."

"What?"

"Oh, c'mon Dean, did you really think Bobby, the second most paranoid bastard in the country after Frank, would have let him go without keeping taps on him?"

Dean's eyes go wider.

"We went to fucking Atlanta, Sam. We went looking for him. I looked everywhere for him. What---are you telling me Bobby let us go in a goose chase?"

"No, no! I mean, I don't know. Maybe somewhere along the way, he must had found out where he was. Maybe Cas reached out to him. I don't know. I mean, Adam did. And look how that turned out." 

"Why are you telling me this _now_?"

"I'm just putting the pieces together."

"Oh, and it's a terrific big picture so far! Just fucking great!"

"Hey, don't get mad at me for pointing it out."

"I'm mad at Bobby!"

"Why? For doing what was best for us?"

"No, Sam, for lying!"

"After the stunt you pulled in Detroit, what would you have done?"

"Well, the whole thing could had been avoided, for starters..."

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"_You don't think so_...? What--- Where's this even coming from, man?"

"Like I said, I'm just putting the pieces together. I had time to think..."

"Oh, oh, and you think I hadn't?"

"Hey, cut it out. I didn't say that."

"I just don't get it, man. Why did you beat the shit out of him if you really think Bobby knew all along?"

"One thing does not rule out the other, you idiot. I'm still angry at Cas. How about you, huh? Because for what I remember, you were the one who was all Zen about it."

"Oh c'mon! Have you seen the guy? He looked like a drawn harassed rat crawling out of the gutter! Was I supposed to team up with you and help you sucker punch him into pulp?"

"So you just took pity on him?"

"What if I did? It doesn't mean anything!"

"For fuck's sake, Dean! We're not having that conversation again!"

"I just don't see the point going all nuc for something that happened when we were kids, that's all."

"Dean, _we _were _never _kids. Ever. We kinda pretended we were because of well, reasons, but you and I... Not with our history, not with the way we were raised. Not with the kind of life we lived before Bobby."

"Oh c'mon, you know what I mean..."

"No, I get it. I do. We were young... But Cas... Look, whatever happened with him, Angels or aliens, I don't know, it doesn't matter... I lost my best friend, but the ricochet... I almost lost you too. And I can't pretend it didn't happen, Dean. He didn't just puffed, he took a big chunk of you with him."

"Oh, c'mon Sammy..."

"Nononono, don't try to minimize what happened Dean! It's not fair!"

"I'm not---"

"What do you think it would have happened if Bobby said _hey guys, I know where Cas is_ after the shit storm he unleashed upon our family? What do you think it would have happened if, after everything you did, everything you put yourself through trying to find him, you finally knew where he was? Huh? What then? And what do you think Dad would have done?"

Dean says nothing at all.

"Yeah, exactly. So you better come down that high horse of yours. Bobby always did what's best for you, for all of us."

Sam takes a swing at his beer. After a moment, he stands up, washes his hands over the kitchen sink and dries them on a table cloth.

"You're leaving?"

"It's late."

"OK. Did you check on the girls?"

"Yeah."

"And?" 

"Red is feeling better, Charlie not so much. They have plenty of soup and Gatorade. I'll stop by again tomorrow."

"Jack and Leen? How are they doing?"

"Eileen's feeling better, but she's still burned out. Jack's cranky, but the fever stopped. So, all in all..."

"I can stop by the girls tomorrow if you wanna catch up with some sleep."

"Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks."

Sam sighs and runs a hand through his hair. 

"Uhm, so Leen told me she had to call Bobby so Jack could talk to Emma. Twice."

"Dipper and Mabel, man."

"Plus the three times she called him." Sam's gives him _the look_.

"Oh, c'mon! They're not clingy, they're just kids! Everyone said the same thing about us."

"Sure, and look at us."

"Exactly."

"We're codependent, Dean."

"It's call being good brothers, Sammy."

"You literally live in my backyard."

"In the guest house I helped you build. Besides, you know I'm saving for a down payment."

"I'm not talking about finances, I'm talking about getting back on your feet. Quit stalling. You need to talk to Lydia's parents, sort the Kansas house situation, get your share."

"You know it's not that simple."

"And you know it could be if you just let us take care of it."

"You gonna suit up for me, Sammy?"

"If that means Em will have what's rightfully hers, then you bet your ass I will."

"You know they hate my guts."

"But this isn't about you, is it? This is about their granddaughter."

"Like they give a fuck..."

"_Language_," Emma scolds walking in. She goes straight to Sam.

"Hey, Em, what are you doing up?" He scoops her up and kisses her.

"What the fudge, baby?" Dean rolls his eyes.

"I had to pee, heard you talking, came to say hi," Em yawns.

"Great. Now get your bump back to bed."

"I want Sammy to tug me in," she smiles at her uncle. 

"Sure sweetheart," Sam begins making his way to Emma's bedroom.

"How's Jack?" She asks resting her head on his shoulder.

"Still under the weather."

"When can I see him?"

"When he's feeling better."

"And when is that?"

"A couple more days. We don't want you to get the bug too, do we?"

"No we don't," Emma sounds so disappointed. 

Dean finishes his beer and his pizza. He'll be damn, it's a really good pizza. After a few minutes, Sam comes back.

"See? It takes a village, man," Dean huffs, mocking him. "I believe it's called co-parenting."

His brother gives him a beautiful bitch face.

"Take your medicine," Dean hands him the beer bottle and Sam finishes it in a couple of gulps.

"I was thinking, if we get some work done this weekend, Treehouse 2.0 could be ready by the 4th."

"Wanna do a grand opening or something? Barbecue, water guns, fireworks, the whole nine?"

Sam nods. 

"Have the gang over?"

Dean casts a pointed look at him.

"Fine, we can extend the invitation to Cas. And try to fill out the blanks, I guess..."

Dean huffs.

"That's exactly what he said earlier."

"Great, we can all be codependent together."

"Just like the good ol' times."

"I don't understand, Dean. Honestly, are you OK with him been back or not? Because I'm getting so many mixed signals here."

"And that's _exactly _how I feel."

"Great. Just _fucking _great."

Sam runs both hands over his face with a growl. 

"I'm gonna go to bed."

"Alright, see you tomorrow."

Sam shakes his head and sighs.

"I can't believe you did acid without me."

"Once. Besides, you were with Kev cooking some science project or somethin', we didn't want to interrupt."

"Yeah, and look how it turned out."

"It was a beautiful makeover opportunity."

"Yeah, right."

Sam goes for the door.

"Night, Dean."

"Good night, Sammy. Kiss our dear wife for me."

"Kiss my ass, jerk," and with that, Sam's out the door.

After a quick shower and brushing his teeth, Dean finally went to bed. It seemed he couldn't help his mind to wander back to that terrible pancake day. Maybe that's when all started. Or maybe not. He was already dozing off when he heard footsteps down the hall, and then the mattress shifted a little. Emma crawled into bed next to him. After a moment, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pressed against his back. And then she sniffed.

"You OK, baby?"

She didn't reply. Dean turned around slowly and carefully held her closer, wrapping his arms around her.

"What was it?" He stroke her hair. 

She didn't reply. Dean kept rubbing her back and waited for Emma to slowly relax and fall asleep. After that, he dozed off, trailing after her into a deep and dreamless slumber.


	3. Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm such a Sam girl. My first AU Supernatural fanfiction started with Sam. I had this awesome dream about him and his dead daughter meeting a girl who 'help' him with his 'problem' and then I took that inch and run a mile with it.  
I don't know about you, but I have really good dreams. It's like I have extremely good oneiric fuel, big budgets, cool soundtracks and usually my unconscious mind makes amazing casting choices. At least when I'm not dreaming about doing laundry or tidying up the kitchen. 
> 
> [(－－)]..zzz

> Let it roll
> 
> like the wind between the leaves
> 
> Everything is gold, everything is salt
> 
> The day will come
> 
> when his memories won't burn
> 
> when the pain will fade away
> 
> Personally I believe
> 
> all of this is crazy
> 
> "Personalmente" by Las Pelotas

> [Take me to Spotify!](https://open.spotify.com/track/7q7XFO9av9VpNJSXKJwJxD?context=spotify%3Aplaylist%3A37i9dQZF1DWZU5DGR2xCSH&si=Z9j_xcLMRZi0h2mF_5y-VQ)

THEN

MONDAY

"He's ours now, Sammy. We need to look after him," Dean's voice is barely a whisper and I turn to frown at him.

"He's not our property," I know I'm giving him _the tone_ but the hell with it. In exchange, I was expecting a snarky remark but all I got is a _you know what I mean_ look and then he's out of the car. 

Yes, I knew what he means. I turn to look at the quiet skinny guy strolling through the parking lot and feel the weight of Dean's words. I climb out of the car and call him out.

"Hey, Cas, wait up!" 

Castiel glances over his shoulder in our direction. Dean gets our shit out of the back of the Impala and he throws me the duffel bag in one swift move.

Cas stood very still, half turned, hands inside the pockets of his new uniform, as we catch up with him. A few girls wave at Dean all giddy and flirty, and he reciprocates with his cocky grin and a _mornin', ladies_. They squirmed and disappeared through the threshold.

"'Kay, buddy. This is it," Dean stretches his arms above his head, describes a full circle, and then lands his paw on Cas' shoulder.

"Welcome to St. Agnes. You a Catholic, Cas?" Dean swings his backpack over his shoulder.

Cas shakes his head.

"You'll get use to it. Fergus is kinda cool, you know, for a priest. And I'm pretty sure he's IRA. Bad news, leash it's pretty short. But then again, they're the only ones who would takes us, so that kinda settles it."

"Good news is food is actually not that bad."

"Fish and chips every Friday," Dean hums.

"And you probably won't get stabbed with a shiv in the hallway," I continue and Cas narrows his eyes suspiciously.

"Juvie doesn't count," Dean nudges me.

"I know, I was talking about Chicago."

"Oh, right. Forgot about that," Dean nods and makes his way towards the gate. Cas looks at me all squinty, head tilted to the left. 

"Don't worry, we have your back," I give him a little smile.

I meant it. Not that Cas needed back up.

I was waiting for him outside the bathroom with our lunch when Luc run into Cas on his way out. Of course, no surprise here, Luc made a nasty comment, after all that's his _raison d'etre_, which I didn't catch at first because I was still a few steps away, but I watch as Cas asked him to repeat himself.

"What was that?" His voice's all gravelly.

"I said, _seems like the Winchesters got a new pet, a fucking faggot nonetheless_. Hey, it actually kinda rhymes," Luc was laughing, sorta congratulating himself for his outstanding witts when Cas punched him in the throat as quick as a lighting, or one of those cobras or rattle snakes, minus the warning hiss. Naturally, Luc felt to the floor on his knees, gasping for air, always so dramatic when it comes to taking an actual punch, and I just stared at him for a beat.

"Stay down," I warn him. "C'mon, Cas. Library is this way." I grip his shoulder for emphasis, because Cas' eyes are cold and sharp, and I know troubles when I see them. We slowly walk away. 

"I know where the library is," Cas sighs as we turn the corner.

"I know," I shrug. I don't think Cas noticed Dean down the hall, standing next to his locker, witnessing the whole ordeal. Luc won't get the message, assholes hardly do, and I know Dean would want to take care of it himself. So I threw him a decoy, big whoop.

Needless to say, we need to have the talk. Well, a snip of it at least. Halloween's in two weeks and Cas already missed too much school drama background, having landed with us only a few weeks ago. With any luck, and judging by fairly recent developments and our own Winchester history, that's almost never the case, Cas will be stuck with us until he turns 18, the proverbial/legal golden ticket out of Foster Families Cruise. That been said, there's long time ahead of us, almost two years. Hence, the next awkward but necessary moment.

"So here's the thing, Cas," I make my way out to the yard. "Luc's a lawsuit waiting to happen, so we try to avoid him as much as possible. That aside, good job shutting his cakehole, man."

I pushed the door open and gesture him to go ahead. It's a little cold outside but I think the sunshine will compensate for the chill.

"What the hell is his problem?"

"A, I wouldn't narrow it down to one. And B..." What was I supposed to say next? 

_Well, Cas, I'm afraid you landed in the midst of a fairly recent feud. Luc's older brother, Michael, had a thing for Dean. Word got out, his parents freaked out, put him on a plane and zapped him away to Maine with some distant relatives. _

(Or maybe was a cult thing? Meh, it's pretty much the same) 

_So, with Michael out of the picture, well, Luc there, having the emotional development of a fossil _

(no disrespect to fossils) 

_keeps lashing out and picking fights with everyone, but specially with our clan. Guess that's easier than standing up to the true villains of this story. The end._

Yeah, I don't think so. Dean should debrief him, it's his fucking mess, we're just collateral damage. I spot Kevin sitting in our table beneath the oak tree.

"Well, you know," I shrug. "Assholes with a highly questionable moral compass are dangerous vermin. Plus, his family is kinda loaded. Bad combination. Hey Kev," I wave at him.

"Dude, where's my drink?" 

"Sorry, we never got to the cafeteria. Cas, this is my friend Kevin Tran. Kev, this is Castiel Novak."

"Hi Castiel, nice to meet you," Kev sticks his hand out and Cas shakes it with a small nod.

"So, you staying with Bobby, huh?" Kev puts his book aside and pops open one of his thermos. "Ellen makes the best barbecue in Sioux Falls, did you know?" 

"We went to The Roadhouse on Saturday, he knows."

I take out the two plastic containers Ellen fixed for us with the pulled pork leftovers and the bread. Kevin pours some coffee in a traveling mug and hands it to Cas.

"Kevin's mom's has really good coffee and a fancy coffee machine," I explain. "So Mondays usually go this way."

"And Charlie brings the pie," Kevin waves at someone behind us. "Her grandma bakes one every Sunday after mess. Great, Dean got drinks."

"Hello ma' bitches," Charlie chimes and slides next to Cas. "Hi, I'm Charlie. Can I call you Cas? I'm gonna call you Cas. Nice to meet you, Cas." She half hugs him and Cas goes a little stiff.

"Easy tiger, you're gonna spook him," Dean tosses a bottle of water to Kevin and then sits down next to him. 

I give Dean a pointed look and he nods imperceptibly.

"So, do we have plans for Halloween?" Charlie helps me fix everyone a sandwich as Dean helps Kevin with the coffee. I glance at Cas, who's holding the cup tight in his hands and sniffing it with the tiniest of smiles. Mental note: buy bribe-coffee for Cas.

"I think Victor is throwing a party," Dean says with his mouth full.

"Please, can we dress up this year, _please_?" Charlie looks at Dean with her puppy eyes.

"Like that's gonna happen," Kevin laughs. Dean nods and points at him like he has a point.

"Charles, you know the rules. Kev, please, if you may," he gestures him to fill in the blanks.

"We don't do any kind of costume parties. We don't do shorts. We don't take a joint from a guy named Don. There's no dogs in the car. Driver picks-_Ouch_!"

"Why do you keep bringing up the dog rule?"

"Because you're not getting a dog, Sam. That's why. Thank you, Mr. Tran. Questions?"

"But I want to be Leia this year!" Charlie pouts. "Why don't you wanna be my Han?"

Dean puts down his sandwich to place his arm around her.

"Baby girl," he squeezes her and place a kiss to her forehead. "You gotta trust me on this one," he whispers in her ear and Charlie blushes bright red. Kevin looks at me like _what the fuck_ and I shrug. Dean's plotting something. I can tell. He picks up his sandwich and grins like a jerk. Oh, it's so on.

* * *

THEN

SUNDAY

Castiel is really quiet, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't sleep more than four hours a day. I think he's getting a hold of the routine just fine, which rubs me the wrong way because either he's putting his energy somewhere else or he doesn't give a rat ass. Thing is, if he's focusing on something else it must be something really important, and in my limited experience, that kind of laser focused attention ends up blowing up in your face. On the other hand, if he doesn't give a shit about it and he's just playing along because he has nothing better to do, well, that makes him sorta flight risk, which makes him dangerous. 

And that's what I call a shitty conundrum. 

But then again, maybe Cas is not a ticking bomb. Maybe he just likes to read and do his homework and watch westerns with us on the weekends. Maybe he understands that we're all here for similar reasons, and that gives Cas some kind of perspective over life.

Maybe.

Or maybe I'm just delusional.

* * *

NOW

THURSDAY

I hear Dean parking down the driveway and I make my way to the front door. Emma's getting out of the car and her face lights up when she sees me. It's hard not to grin back on that kid. 

"Sammy!" She shrikes like we haven't seen each other in years and runs to meet me. I scoop her up and throw her really up in the air, catch her back and hug her really tight.

"Hey gorgeous," I put her back down and kneel so we are eye level. "No soccer practice today?"

"We went swimming. Smell my hair!" She practically shoves her braid at my face.

"Mmmm... smells really nice, Em!" Dean joins us carrying the cradle of apples Eileen asked for.

"It's my new shampoo. Red did _especially _for _me_," she's so excited. "It looks like a soap bar but it's not soap. It's solid," she looks up for confirmation and Dean nods.

"Oh, fancy," I look up at him and he rolls his eyes.

"Solid shampoo bars. Healthy and environment responsable," he shrugs. Emma puts her hands on both side of my head and turns my face to meet my eyes again.

"Don't listen to him. He says it's a hipster conspiracy."

"Because _it is_," Dean huffs and Emma sighs shaking her head.

"So where's Jack? He said on the phone he found a frog. Did he find a frog, uncle Sam?"

"Frog's in the pond and Jack's in treehouse," I stand up and open the door for her. I try to get the apples from Dean but he shakes his head and tightens his grip.

"I got it," he replies and marches inside right behind Emma. 

"You OK man?" He seems off.

"Dad saw a ghost," Emma says halfway through the kitchen.

"_Emma_," Dean has a hundred different way of using her name as a whole message. This is the warning intonation.

"Figurative speech. I know. Ghosts ain't real. I got it," she nods once, give us the thumb up, and she's out the back door. I hear her calling out for Jack and his thrilled reply back.

"We need to fix the roof on that treehouse," Dean reminds me. He leaves the apples on the kitchen counter and goes to the fridge. 

"Maybe we could put a metal sheet or something more durable," he takes out a beer, twists the lid and tosses in the sink.

"Don't you think it's a little early for that?" 

"Haven't you heard? I saw a ghost," he starts gulping down his drink.

"Who?" There's a pretty long list of candidates in my mind. Dean gives me a strained look and finishes his beer like it's a college competition. The list just got shorter.

"Is Lydia back in town?" I look back at the tree house through the kitchen window and back at him.

"What? No!" He runs a hand through his hair and shudders. He's clearly freaked out. And then he leans against the counter and does that thing with his fingers. The thing he does when he craves a cigarette.

"Holy fuck," there's only two people who have that effect on Dean. We buried one years ago.

"You saw Cas?" I move around the kitchen island to get closer to him, just in case.

"I swear, I thought it was him. Man, I haven't... Shit."

"Where?"

He shudders again, like he's trying to shake off a nightmare. 

"On the way here, I don't know. We were driving back from the pool and Em was talking about her fancy shampoo bar, kid's freaking obsessed with it, and I make a turn on, on... shit, I don't even remember the street, but I swear, Sammy, it was him. He looked like, like a fucking mess, but it was him. I mean... Fuck."

Oh fuck in deed.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing. When I looked back, he was gone. Even Em turned back to look. She thought I'd seen her Mom."

"Shit."

"Honest, I wish it was her instead."

Of course Dean would rather freak out over Lydia than Cas.

"That's weird, man."

Last time Dean thought he saw Cas on the street he took it really hard. He was freaked out for weeks.

We hear Eileen walking down the stairs and Dean tries to get his shit together.

"Please don't tell Leen, I don't wanna have this conversation, 'kay?"

I nod and pad his shoulder. Eileen walks in frowning at her phone and Dean stands straighter, hiding his beer. 

"Your Majesty, I came bearing gifts," he says bowing his head. Eileen looks up and narrows her eyes.

"What? Are you or are you not the Apple Pie Queen?" Dean teases her and Eileen smacks him on the shoulder.

"I don't feel like a queen," she hands me her phone and I read the messages between her and Rowena.

"Wait, there's a waiting list? And who the hell is Margaret?" 

"Margaret's the cupcake bitch," she rolls her eyes. 

"I thought you couldn't take orders in advance."

"You can't! That's the point. She's cheating!"

"Wow, Game of Thrones meets Bake Off," Dean chuckles.

"Bitch is gonna burn," Eileen signs and Dean has a coughing fit.

"It's a church baking sale. You might wanna turn it down a notch, Khaleesi," I kiss the crown of her head.

Dean rubs his chest, clearing his throat.

"Ok, guys. You better get started," he grins but doesn't move. Eileen frowns.

"Why is he acting like he's not gonna help?" She looks up to me.

"Beats me," I shrug.

"Grab your apron," she points at Dean. "You're on apple peeling duty," she turns to me. 

"Measurement duty," I nod and lean down to give her a little peck on the lips.

"I take it back," Dean grabs the cradle with the apples and moves to the sink. "This is a dictatorship."

Eileen laughs and makes a mean face, that of course it's completely adorable.

"You gotta earn your pie, Winchester," she shrugs and goes to the pantry. 

* * *

SUNDAY

"Here, Em," I hand her my phone. "Call your dad and ask him where he is, would you?"

She nods, dials and puts the phone to her ear.

"No, it's me," her tone is cautious for a second.

"Where are you?"

Pause.

"OK, we're coming to get you."

Pause.

"Just Uncle Sam and me."

Pause.

"With Jack and Aunt Leen."

Pause.

"Yes."

Pause.

"No."

Pause.

"OK. Love you too."

She hangs up and hands me back my phone.

"He'll meet us at the shop."

"OK."

"He sounded fine," Em sighs.

I'm so embarrassed. I know they didn't actually see me snapped but I know Emma figured that out.

"Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"I just wanted you to know that I get it."

"You get what, honey?"

"Why you're so angry at Cas."

"I'm..." Really pissed and I can't lie.

"I know what Cas did to Dad."

"What do you mean?"

"He broke his heart."

"Who told you that?"

"Dad told me."

"Dean told you that?"

"Yes. I mean, not in so many words... He said Cas disappointed him. And I know he misses him and that's why he doesn't like to go to his room. It's hard for him. Just like it's hard for Bobby to talk about Grandma Ellen..."

"That's different, Em."

"Is it tho? Dad doesn't like to talk about Cas but when he does, he makes the same face he makes when he talks about Mom. Or when we see Benny at the grocery store and he has to pretend he's happy to see him."

Holy fucking shit.

"And Dad had the same face today when he told us to get back in the car."

"He did?"

"Uh-huh."

Damnit. Sometimes I wonder where Emma really comes from. She's so fucking intelligent in so many levels... I feel she's supporting all of us when it should be the other way around.

"Cas seemed... lost," she adds after a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"You know that face Jack makes when we go to a place and gets really crowded and he gets upset and I have to hold his hand or you have to pick him up?" I know that face. It's a mixture of anxiety and panic. I nod.

"Well, Cas' face looked just like that, like he needed someone to hold his hand."

Well, that's great. And I fucking broke his nose. After the stunt he pulled on us, I think I let him go easy. Besides, he disappointed all of us. He broke Dean's heart.

We make the rest of the way in silence. When we get to the shop, I see Dean quickly throwing away a cigarette. That's not a good sign. We slow down almost to a halt and Dean climbs in.

"Hey, baby." He smiles at Emma. "Thanks for picking me up, guys."

I nod and pick up the speed.

"Seatbelt," Em scolds.

"Right," Dean nods and buckles up.

We drive in silence for a couple of blocks. I keep glancing at Dean. His eyes are fixed ahead but his fingers are doing that thing. 

"So..." Emma ventures. "It wasn't a ghost after all." 

"No, it was not," Dean sighs and glances back at me. I think he's relieved to know he's not hallucinating Cas everywhere.

"Dad?" 

"Hmm?"

"Do you need hug?" Em whispers.

Dean chuckles.

"I could use a hug, thanks munchkin."

"You smell like an ashtray, but I'm gonna let that slide," she frowns and mutters almost to herself.

Dean gives me another quick glance. This one reads I need a fucking drink. 

I think whatever we're drinking, we're gonna need a bottle.

Or maybe I just need to punch something.

Or all of the above.

* * *

NOW

1ST OF JULY

Yes, I've been stalling. Yes, I know I told Dean we should invite Cas to the barbecue but I haven't actually extended the invitation to him. Not yet, at least. 

I'm staring at the lights displayed in front of me, when I feel a Eileen gently touching my hand. I turn around and she's watching me carefully.

"Did you find blankets?" I sign and she nods, pointing to the shopping cart.

"What's going on with you?" She nudges me and goes for a box of fairy lights.

"These look nice," she narrows as she reads the label.

"I was thinking we could do string lights outside, wrap them around the tree and maybe hang a line above the picnic table, what do you think?"

"Jack showed you his Pinterest board, hasn't he?" 

"Yeah, he did."

Eileen chuckles. After I took down the old tree house on a wimp, I promise Jack the new house would be a hundred times better so he put together a lot of ideas to help us get there.

"OK, I'll take a few of these for the interior design." Leen takes two more boxes and puts them in the cart along with the other stuff we're getting to match Jack's vision.

Maybe I shouldn't have taken down the old tree house. To be honest, it was more a fit of rage than wimp. I was just pissed at Castiel and needed to do something. Might as well do something productive. At least after I chopped down the whole thing. But, demo day is actually pretty good, cathartic even. Chip's right. And Dean was on board with it. Maybe because we both needed to focus on something besides Cas. Now, why did I agree on having him over? To fill out the fucking blanks? To finally know what he's been up to all these years? I could just ask Bobby. Do I really need to hear it from him? I guess I do. Damnit.

I park the truck and get out to the hot afternoon air. I know Bobby's at the shop with Dean, and I don't feel like walking inside unannounced. Luckily, I don't have to. Cas comes around the back dragging dry branches. There's a pretty big pile of dead plants, more branches, leaves and other stuff right in the middle of the backyard. Bobby's property is pretty big, but that's the same spot where Ellen gathered everything that needed to be disposed of. I think Cas doesn't know Bobby has a wood chipper now. I walk to meet him and notice he's cover in sweat, scratches and dirt. He doesn't notice me. He's humming, and I can see he's wearing headphones. He throws the branches on top of the pile and runs the hem of his t-shirt over his face to wipe away the sweat. And then he goes a little stiff and turns around cautiously. 

"Hey Cas," I wave and stop moving.

He quickly takes off the headphones, leaving them to hang from the collar of his t-shirt, and his eyebrows furrow in a quizzical look. 

"Hello," he greets me with a tiny nod and remains perfectly still. So we stare at each other for a whole minute, in silence. Not awkward at all.

"Sorry for breaking your nose," I venture.

He shrugs.

"I've seen you do a lot more for a lot less." He takes off his gardening gloves and shoves them in the back pocket of his jeans. He takes a deep breath and seems to shiver for a second.

"I'm sorry too, Sam. For everything. I didn't... I'm sorry."

He runs a hand through his hair and takes another deep breath.

And this is it.

"What happened, man? Where have you been?"

"I..." He makes that face. The panic face. Maybe we shouldn't be having this conversation right now. 

"Nevermind, Cas. It's OK. I just wanted to apologise for..." I gesture my face. "And... We're having a barbecue on Wednesday at my place. I wanted to invite you. Rowena and Charlie are coming. Probably Fergus will join us too. Just, come. If you feel like it."

He runs his hand over his forehead. 

"Is this your olive branch?" He squints at me and I chuckle.

"Yes, yes it is."

"Thanks." He scratches his chin and nods. I point to the big pile of pruning and garden waste. 

"What are you doing?"

He looks back and then at me.

"I'm cleaning the green house."

Holy shit.

"What?" He eyes me carefully.

"Uhm, nothing. It's just that..."

"Sam, what?"

"Bobby hasn't been there since Ellen passed away."

"Oh," he looks back at the greenhouse. "Well, I asked and he said it was OK."

If that's not a vote of confidence, then I don't know what it is.

"Tell me something, Cas," I don't wait for him to ponder on it. "Did Bobby knew where you were all this time?"

"Not at first," his voice sounds strained and his face settles in sorta painful expression.

Time to draw the line.

"Figures. Listen, I have to go, but I hope to see you on the 4th."

He nods, lips pursed, frowny face. Reminds me of the kid that climbed out of the Impala for the first time. That kid that seemed to be on the edge all the time, but could play along in order to survive.

([Take me to Ellen's greenhouse on Pinterest](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/426223552236514243/))

* * *

THEN

4TH JULY

"There's no way I'm lighting that up," Cas points out to the cradle Dean's holding up.

He rolls his head describing the circle that means _c'mon you're overreacting_.

I hand the cigarette back to Cas. 

"Go ahead, Dean. We'll watch from here," I gesture him to move along.

"I had a really sweet deal on this, why are you raining on my parade?"

"I like my face," Cas adds and Dean looks at me.

"I like his face too," I second and he glares at us.

"Dean, they looks like the firework equivalent of food poisoning," I like how Cas uses food analogies for emphasis.

"Like those sketchy tacos, remember?" I point out.

"Those were cleansing tacos. I dropped ten pounds in two day," he pats his stomach like he has a strong case going on.

"You slept with your head in the toilet for two days and you call that a cleansing experience?" Bobby pitches in and Cas chokes on his beer, spitting all over.

"Beauty is pain," Dean snaps back. "Imma gonna light this shit up and you're not allowed to enjoy it," he strolls away from us carrying the sketchy fireworks with him.

"You gonna light it up back in Mexico or somethin'?" Bobby keeps sassing him and Cas keeps coughing trying to catch up his breath. Dean turns back and flips us off with such a dramatic stance, it's hilarious. More so when I realize I still have his lighter and he'll have to come back for it.

"You're going for the wrong border, Dean!" I yell at him and Cas keeps sorta choking and sorta laughing. It's a good sound. The laugh part, of course. 


	4. Bobby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was kinda hoping to participate in the DCBB 2019. I thought to myself 'I have time, I have like the *whole* summer...' and then it hit me: wait, I live in the South Hemisphere. (；⌣̀_⌣́)
> 
> I was also thinking I could update on Wednesdays, but I can't make any promises because I also have an adult life to take care of and I'm not that great in the adulting department. ლ(ಠ_ಠ ლ)
> 
> On an unrelated topic, I called my Grandma today. She's 86 and an avid reader. She told me she's reading an historical novel about India circa 1840. She sounded really excited about it so I asked her if there were any erotic scenes or sexy bits. She laughed and told me I was crazy. But she didn't actually answer the question. I'm gonna go ahead and say yes, my Grandma reads porn.  
┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴

> I was a good man, if there's anyone good in this place  
I paid all my debts, I paid my opportunity to love  
However I'm high and dry  
and nobody remembers me  
I walk through people like The Canterville Ghost
> 
> "El fantasma de Canterville" by Charly García
> 
> [Take me to Spotify!](https://open.spotify.com/track/0QmhPQpdZzRqypsR7Ohndy)

THEN

SUNDAY

I come down to the kitchen and find Castiel nose deep in a book. I glance at the clock on the wall. It's not even seven. I'm not sure if he's still adapting or if he doesn't sleep much on regular basis

"Morning kiddo," he hums a _morning_ back. I think he's one of those _spoke only when spoken to_ boy and that's just unsettling. I make my way around. He's a little wary. He always sits down facing the exit, back to the wall. And he looks as alert as Sam and Dean when they first got here, only they at least had each other. I begin preparing a coffee pot. Sam told me Cas likes coffee so I picked one a couple of bucks above our usual choice. I feel his gaze following me around.

"Whatcha readin'?" I look back at him and he shows me the cover of the book. It's Sam's battered copy of _The gunslinger_. As the coffee machines starts to bubble and gurgle, I take out the ingredients for the pancakes.

"Have you seen _The good, the Bad and the Ugly_? Sam told me it's one of King's inspiration." 

"Besides the poem?" Cas tilts his head to the side. 

"Right, the Browning poem. I think I have a copy of _Men and Women_ somewhere. But you gonna have to ask Sam about that, he keeps messing up with the order."

I think I saw the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips. I pour two mugs of coffee and join him on the table.

"And I'm sure Dean would love to walk you through the Dollar Trilogy," I hand him the cup.

"Thanks," he mutters and puts the book down. 

"You don't have to wait up for me to fix yourself some coffee."

His eyes go _Oh really_.

"Same with breakfast. Have in mind that bacon works as Dean's alarm clock. And he's not a morning person, so you better have enough coffee ready. Sam reacts to sound, so he'll come down if you're loud. But he likes to help, so that's a plus."

I'm just making conversation, but I notice he's filing every piece of information. I wonder what kind of routine he had back in Atlanta. It looks like he wasn't allowed in the kitchen at all. I sip my coffee and openly stare at him. He holds my gaze unabashed. I bet he's great at poker.

"I know Dean gave you the talk," I scratch my beard. "Last kid we took in, Adam, made a mess of things. We had Social Services breathing down our necks for months. Things looked really grim for a while, y'know? Luckily, that's behind us." I lean back on the chair. He sips his coffee. 

"You're a smart kid, Castiel. And I don't mean school smart. I mean our kind of smart. Surely smart enough to not get caught with your hand in the cookie jar. I'm guessing someone threw you under the bus, huh?"

His expression is blank but he blinks a couple of times. Maybe that's a tell.

"Either way, here we are."

He looks down at his mug. 

"It's been what, a month now?"

He nods.

"I know you know by now we put our money where our mouth is. And I don't mean to give you a pep talk much less a speech. I just want you to know that there's a reason why they send you here, son." He perceive the skepticism in his eyes. "No Angel's gonna set a foot on my ground, ya hear? Maybe we ain't in Kansas anymore, but my name still means somethin'. And the boys, well. You couldn't ask better backup than that. Not that you need it."

Cas puts his mug down and swallows hard. I can see the wheels turning in his head.

"If I can keep John Winchester _and_ Samuel Campbell at bay, I'm sure that counts for somethin', right?"

He looks at me with a _you haven't you met my family_ face. 

"Oh, I'm willing to bet that what Rafael heard 'bout me outweighs what I heard 'bout him. And I like my odds on that."

His fingers twitch.

"However, I didn't get this far runnin' on good luck or actin' on a whimp. I'm always ready and set like it's Reckoning Day. That's the only reason I can sleep through night." 

Well, good planning, extremely resourceful contacts and a shotgun.

He nods almost imperceptibly.

"I'm gonna make some pancakes, wanna help me out?"

"Sure," he mutters.

I don't know if we're getting somewhere, hell, I don't know the first thing 'bout this boy, but at least there will be pancakes.

* * *

NOW

SUNDAY

I hear him coming down the stairs and for a split second I'm shocked at the sight of the grown-up man that walks through the kitchen door.

He looks disoriented.

"Mornin' Sleeping Beauty," I watch him as he sits down, face all squinty like the light is too damn bright.

"Is it morning?"

"Sunday morning," he looks only mildly surprised. "That was a pretty long nap, I say. You OK?"

"Yes. I, uhm, I guess I was tired..." He sighs and scratches his stubble.

"Want some coffee?" I gesture the coffee machine on the counter. He nods and stands up. He hesitates for a second near the counter. "Third cabinet," I point out and he nods again. He gets a mug out of the cabinet, pours some coffee and sits back down. I fold down the paper and stare at him. He stares back.

"I think it's time for the debriefing, son."

He tries to rub the sleep off his face and nods. I'm not sure how he can still be sleepy after a two and half days long nap.

"Go ahead."

"You clean?"

"Yes," his voice doesn't falter.

"How long?"

"Two years, eight months, and... seventeen days."

"You going to meetings?"

"Yes. Every week."

"Sponsor?"

"Joshua. Still in touch."

"Good. I expect you to keep that up as long as you're here."

"I will."

"Prescriptions meds?"

"Celexa. Xanax for emergencies."

"When was your last blood test?"

"Two months ago."

"And?"

"A slight anemia, but that's all."

"You owe money?"

"Not anymore."

"Favors?"

"Not anymore."

"Something stuck on your shoe?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"A'right."

I stand up and take my mug to the sink.

"I have to run an errand. I promise the boys I would help them with a project and I'm short of materials. There's enough stuff around if you feel like fixing something to eat. I'll be back late. Lock down if you leave the house. You know the drill."

He hums.

"Don't burn down the house."

He huffs and there's a hint of softness in his gesture. I'm half way through the door when I hear him calling me.

"Yeah?"

"Did you tell them?"

"So they can shoot the messenger? I don't think so. You can tell them when you're ready."

He nods. 

"Bobby?"

"Yes?'

"Are they... How are they doing?"

"You ain't cutting corners, son."

He nods again and sips his coffee. I feel bad for about three whole seconds, and then I'm out the door.

"Grandpa!" Jack bursts through the back door with his pink leggings and his little Zeppelin black tee and I can't help a smile. 

"We went to your house! Cas was there! Mom, Uncle Cas was there!" He wraps his arms around my legs and looks up.

Eileen looks at me with a frown.

"You're in so much trouble," she _tsks _and shakes her head in sympathy.

_Balls_.

"Where's Dad?" Eileen asks.

"In the car with Emmy."

"Where's Dean?" My turn to ask the difficult questions.

"With Uncle Cas," he replies. 

"Where?"

"Back in your house, Bobby. Mom, can I have a soda?"

"What about a lemonade or a smoothie?"

"But I want a soda," Jack's chin wobbles a bit.

"You already had too much sugar, baby," Eileen explains with a stern face.

"I would love a smoothie, can you fix me one?" I offer my back up.

"I can do it! What do you want?" I like how fast Jack can be persuaded.

"What about that carrot and ginger one?" I ruffle his hair.

"That's my favorite too! I'm gonna get the carrots..." He sprints back inside.

"You go ahead and talk to Sam," she signs at me.

I stare at the metal sheets I brought from Lowe's.

Well, there goes nothin'.

I make my way around the house. The Impala is parked behind my truck on the driveway. Emma waves at me from the front seat and I get a Sam Winchester trademark bitch face.

"Are you going to get inside or what?"

Emma pops her head out of the window.

"Hi Bobby!" She smiles broadly. "We're gonna pick up Daddy first."

"I see," I nod.

Sam starts the car and Emma climbs to her seat on the back.

"You need help with that?" I lean against the passenger side window.

"No, I got it," Emma grins as she puts her seatbelt but I make sure she's properly buckle down.

"Sam, you want to get somethin' out of your chest?" I look at his profile.

"What the hell, Bobby?" Sam hisses.

"What?"

"Seriously?"

"Was I suppose to kick him out to the curb?" 

"No! But a heads-up would have been in order," he sounds really pissed and I notice his knuckles are bloody. 

"Yeah, you kind beat me to it."

Sam huffs and shakes his head, biting his lower lip. I look back at Emma and she's watching us sharp-eyed and blank expression. 

"You sure don't want to go inside, sweetheart? Jack's making smoothies."

"I want to get Dad first," she gives me a pointed look.

"OK. You drive drive safe." I pat the roof and Sam slowly backs up the driveway.

That's one pissed off Big Winchester a'right. One left to go.


	5. Independence Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sundays are hard  
when you're high  
and alone  
with your overweight cat. 
> 
> Writing helps.  
Mondays suck.
> 
> Please, mom,  
send me a few bucks.
> 
> Update: I get all gloomy and doomy when I get high on Sundays. Probably *not* a good combination.
> 
> ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴

> You changed time and love  
and music and ideas.  
You changed sex and God,  
colors and borders.  
But in essence, you'll change nothing else,  
and a sensual surrender will come, and also the end.
> 
> "Viernes 3 am" by Serú Girán
> 
> [Take me to Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/track/0pudcmeGkwDCCRrnkbIY7W)!

CASTIEL

Of course he wasn't completely sure about coming along, especially because of the anxiety level he woke up with, but he wouldn't under any circumstances screw up this opportunity. This was Sam's olive branch.

"You OK there?" Bobby's voice cuts through the fog in his head. 

"I think I need a minute."

"Sure," he kills the engine.

"Go ahead. I'll be there in a bit."

"You sure?"

"Yes, it's OK. Thanks Bobby."

Bobby gets out of the car and goes to the trunk. Then, he walks along the side of the house through the wooden door that leads to the backyard.

Sam's house is really really nice. 

He focus on his breathing. Inhale in one, two, three, four, and hold. One, two, three, four. And exhale in one, two, three, four. Hold. One, two, three, _fuck_!

_This is me setting the olive branch on fire. _

He can do this, he really can. He really should. He really needs to. He closes his eyes and rest his head on the dashboard. He takes his time, his heart rate is pretty high and his palms are sweaty. 

_Breath, damnit! _

"I won't sucker punch you, I promise," Sam's voice comes over the driver side window.

"Is that supposed to make feel better?" His eyes remain closed.

"Is it working?"

"I don't think so. Kinda sounds like you still wanna punch me."

"I can spank you if you're into that."

That makes him huff.

"Or you can put me across your knee, you know, if you feel like switching it up. I'm cool with that." Now, he has to chuckle. He finally opens his eyes to look at the giant leaning against the window.

"You're not playing fair," Cas narrows his eyes and Sam shrugs.

"I've learned from the best," he opens the door and sits down behind the wheel.

"Stage fright?"

"Yeah."

"Can I check your pulse?" Cas nods and Sam lightly pressed his index and middle fingers against his neck.

"Yeah, it's pretty high. Did you take something?" He gently turns Cas' face to inspect his eyes.

"Xanax. I just need to..." He sits up straight and Sam lets go, retrieving back to his side.

"Chill?"

"Yeah."

Sam pulls the seat back to accommodate his long legs.

"I'm sorry. This wasn't exactly what I had in mind," he truly wonders, would the time ever come when he wouldn't need to apologize for, well, _existing_?

"Hey, it's OK, y'know? And it's just us. Everyone else had plans. So you don't need to worry."

_Oh thank God_. He wasn't ready to talk to Charlie just yet. Nor Rowena. Fergus, well. He was always some sort of exception. Cas nods and shuffles a little in his seat. For a couple of minutes, he focus on taking long and measured breaths. Eyes closed, hands over his belly.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You got married."

"Yeah, I did." 

"And you're a dad now."

"Uh-huh." 

"Sorry I missed it."

"It's OK. We still have wedding cake in the freezer." That makes him snort.

"And I'm sure Eileen would love to walk you through childbirth."

And now he has to chuckle.

"That's a great icebreaker. Hi, I'm Cas. Tell me about---"

"About that time when you vag it out?" He offers a follow-up and Cas has a laughing fit. 

"You're so disgusting!" He manages to squeeze between gasp for air.

"Hey, I'm just quoting my baby mama," Sam deadpans and he has to keep laughing, heaving. After a while, he leans back in his seat, hands on his lap and eyes closed. He manages to measure his breath. Sam accompanies him in reassuring silence. 

"Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"I really appreciate you made the effort to come here. I know we didn't get off to a good start, and that's on me. And I'm sorry. I, just, like, if you could tell me what to do, that would... Shit, look. If you wanna sit this one out, just go ahead. It's fine. We can figure it out later."

"Sam, I... Just give me a minute. I need this. I wanna do this."

"I know we have a lot catching up to do. I just don't want you to feel pressure to do this right now."

Cas opens his eyes and stares at his hands. Sam has a completely valid point. It's different with Bobby. He kept taps with him. But he never had the cojones to call Sam or Dean. Well, that's not accurate. They actually answered the phone a couple of times, Cas was the one who immediately hung up in panic. But back to the crisis in hands.

"It's weird, huh?"

"Yeah. It kinda is."

"Do you think it will stop being weird at some point?"

"I don't know. I mean, I guess we'll have to get reacquainted with each other." He actually smiles at that. He's good at introductions. He can do that.

"Hello, my name is Castiel. I'm an drug addict." He turns to look at Sam's big sunflower eyes.

"And truth is... I don't know what the hell am I supposed to do with my life." Sam's preoccupied furrowed brow hasn't changed much since they were kids and that's actually comforting.

"Why did you come back, Cas?"

"Because I never wanted to leave."

* * *

SAM

"All I'm saying is that you get to choose who you gonna be. Do you want to be the one holding the grudge, lashing out and getting benched? Or do you want to listen to what he has to say and work things out?" Dean hands Emma her blueberry smoothie.

"It's not _fair_! He's the one who keeps _pushing_ everyone! Why do _I_ have to be the bigger person?" She's really pissed.

"Life's not fair, Em. We talked about this. And you don't _have to_ do squat. You get to choose what to do. But deal with the consequences. It's called free will but there's a price."

"I can push Ben for you," Jack points out slurping his smoothie. "They can't suspend _me_, I'm not in the team."

"_Jack_," and his infinite capacity to find loopholes. I blame his mother.

"Did you talk with his mom?"

"Yes, I talk with his mom."

"You talked to Lisa?" Dean frowns at me. 

"What did she say?" Emma's not convinced at all.

"She said she'd talk to him."

"Benji's mom has great hair," Jack adds for no reason.

"You said that _last time_, and what did he do? He shoved KJ! Have you seen her? She's like this high!"

"KJ's so _tiny_," Jack nods.

"You punched him in the face _and_ kicked him in the nuts, Emma."

"Because he keeps pushing and shoving girls!" I haven't see Emma this riled up in a long time. "I STOOD UP TO A BULLY AND I'M BEING PUNISHED FOR IT! IT'S NOT FAIR!" She actually yells and I'm taken aback. Emma never raises her voice, never mind throw things in a tantrum. But there it goes her smoothie, in a straight line to the floor. The plastic bottle bounces on the tile and the content spills all over like an abstract paint performance. Emma looks at the sticky blue mess and struggles to fight back the tears. Before any of us can say anything, she storms out of the kitchen. We hear the bathroom door slammed a moment later. Jack turns to Dean, not a bit surprised by Emma's outburst.

"Do you think this is how Smurfs look like when they get shot?" He makes a loud slurping sound. Dean ponders the idea. 

"Smurfs are tiny, I don't think they have that much blood in them," Dean shrugs and picks up the plastic cup and the straw. Jack's nods thoughtfully.

"Maybe firing squad?" 

"Emma got benched?" I get the conversation back on track.

"Two games."

"I don't understand. I thought we were supposed to stood up to bullies."

"Yes, Jack. But Coach Shane had already suspended Benji _and_ he was in time out. She shouldn't have punch him."

"So it's a timing problem," he hums.

"No, that's not it." Dean goes for the mop and nods at me, asking for my intervention.

"We talked about it, remember? Violence leads to violence," I explain. "You need to break the pattern."

Jack hums again and slurps his smoothie.

"Should I go after her?" I take some paper towels to help Dean. Some of the blood, I mean, smoothie splashed over the lower cabinets doors.

"No, I think she needs a minute," he replies and starts wiping down the floor.

"I'm gonna get Mom," Jack jumps of the chair.

"She's on a conference call, baby. She'll join us when she's done."

"Then I'll be in the treehouse," he smiles. Before he reaches the door, he turns around.

"I think Emmy needs to talk to Mom." And then he's out the door and on his way to the treehouse.

Dean looks at me and then at the mess on the floor. We clean the Smurf crime scene in silence. As he finishes with the floor, I help him tidying up. I wash the dishes and put the blender away. Dean puts the fruits back in the fridge.

"Sometimes I forget she's just a child, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

He sighs, clearly frustrated. 

"But you're talking to each other. I mean, I don't remember Dad trying to reason with me. I don't remember Dad talking to me _period_. You were the only one who would actually explain things to me growing up. And that's, that's good, Dean. This, this is nothing, just a small set back."

Dean sighs again.

"Parenting is hard, man."

"You're doing fine. Better than fine."

"It's like the Winchester part of me says _you did good, baby girl, let me show you how to bust his kneecap_. And the Dad part of me goes---"

"_You gotta break the pattern_ speech, I know! I'm so full of it, I'm such a hypocrite." 

He snorts.

"At least you can say that with a straight face. I can't even deliver the lines." He shrugs and wipes down the kitchen counter. "Sometimes I wonder how did Bobby and Ellen managed to deal with us."

"It's different, we were already fucked up when we got there."

"I know, that's why it's so hard. These are the formative years, I don't want to mess up this early in her life."

"I know summers are hard on you, but we'll get there, OK? One day at the time."

He sighs, nods and pops on one of the chairs. It's not fair. It's not fair at all, why is it so easy to slip into old patterns, forget what we left behind? It's like fighting a second terrible nature that's always lurking, patiently, for one of us to give in. 

"You really talked to Lisa?"

"On the phone, yes. She's staying with her sister." 

"Alice?" 

"Magda. She's back in chemo."

"Oh, fuck."

"Lisa said it got worse. So she's staying over there, helping out and keeping her company."

"Oh, shit. That's awful."

"Yeah, so Benji's staying in the big house, most of the time at least. Michael's girlfriend, uhm, _Tallulah_? I think Lisa said _Tallulah_, whatever, she had a baby a couple of months ago, so they're all caught up in that. Kid's in a tough spot."

"Wait, did you talk to Michael?"

"No! God, no! It was just Hester. And I didn't have to talk to her directly. Shane gathered all the parents and went through the rules and all that. It went down pretty smooth, actually. He called me ahead to tell me about Emma. He doesn't roast the kids in front of everyone. He's cool."

Shit. I know that look. Dean's circling Coach Shane, damnit. Or he's already fucking him. Fuck.

"Besides, he doesn't show up for practice. He drops by at a game once in a while, but that's not his thing. And I think Benji's frustrated. There's a lot going on. I'm still pretty pissed at him, don't get me wrong, but, you know. Reasons. I'm more worried about his inclination to push girls. Someone has to talk to him about consent and appropriate touching."

"Lisa's cool, I'm sure she had that conversation with him."

"That's the kind of conversations that need refreshing. And I'm not betting my money on Michael."

Fucking Michael. 

"I haven't seen Emma like this in long time," I add.

"Yeah, I know. I'm glad, though. She should have tantrums. She's always so..."

"Collected?" 

"Was gonna say _adult_, but yeah. She's always looking after others. When it's not Jack, it's Sasha or KJ or that other little dude with the hair."

"Dude, she got that from you."

"Like hell! You're the nerdy snob who loves weird books and bad science fiction movies!"

"Yes, thank you! You're daughter got her good taste from me! You're welcome! And that's completely not what I was talking about. She has a superhero complex like you, you dumbwat."

"Hey, no need to be mean," he sneers at me.

"And I know what you meant, bitch."

"Jerk."

"Wanna swap them? I'll take Mabel," he gestures the tree-house. "You take Dipper," he points to the bathroom hall.

"Maybe we should put them in a corner and see who they pick. That'd probably be Eileen, so we have to make sure she's not in the room."

Dean laughs and nods.

"I would pick her, too," he mocks me. 

"Of course you would, she spoils you." 

"Don't forget she's loaded. Perfect Sugar Mama."

"Get your own wife! Or husband, I don't care! Just go hunting off city limits," I lower my voice and lean closer to him. "Stay away from Coach Shane!"

"What are you talking about?" He still thinks he can fool me. 

"Please, like you don't know! That's why we have ground rules! Follow the goddamned rules, Dean!"

My phone buzz in my pocket. 

"This isn't over," I glare at him. Dean huffs and rolls his eyes, like he can avoid this conversation.

It's a text from Bobby letting me know they're on their way.

"Bobby and Cas are on their way."

Another buzz.

"With drinks. And a watermelon?"

Dean nods, suddenly deep in thought.

"I'm gonna check on Emma," he sighs again, suddenly deep in thought. 

"Let's break patterns, not noses," he mutters to himself. 

* * *

BOBBY

I haven't seen all my boys sitting around a table in too damn long.

They used to take up over the dinner room table for homework and study sessions. It looked like a war zone during the school year, especially around finals. It was actually nice. It was the one room in the house were they looked actually their age. I haven't met them when they were actually six, but I suspect they look somewhat like they look now, when they goof around with water guns along the real six-years-old ones in our family. I caught glimpses of those boys lingering in these overgrown ink covered meat suits they're wearing with an accomplished ease. I can see them in the stupid high-end tree-house they built up. I can hear the traces of his stolen childhood like echoes in their boozed induced snickering and bickering. Castiel came back to us. What's left of him, at least. Whatever happened, the toll was greater than I suspected. The medication seems to have helped. He looks looser around the shoulders, although there's a groggy tinge to his eyes. Emma and Jack took upon themselves making sure Cas feels welcome, demanding his undivided attention. That actually helped too, giving Cas a polite way out of small talk situations.

Water guns battle, _Space Cowboys_ against _Rainbow Hommies_. Ten foot water slide and watermelon. Water balloons battle, _Braids_ against _Shaved_. Corn-dogs, grilled veggies and salads because cholesterol, smoked pork ribs, glace chicken wings and beer. So much beer. Time to light up the garden lights, tree-house looks dreamy. Official opening, speech and champagne included. An impressive display of sound reduced fireworks. Apple pie, scoop of ice-cream and sparkles around the bonfire. The kids grow sleepy, we grow quieter and more drunk.

"Should I put him to bed?" I ask Eileen with Jack curled up on my lap. She nods and hands Dean another smore, kinda sleepy herself. Emma whips her head in my direction and back at her Dad.

"I'm not sleepy yet," she perks up. She's playing their own made-up version of Scrabble with Sam and Cas.

"Baby, don't smoke yourself out, you can finish your hand."

"Cas is kicking our asses, won't be long," Sam points out. Cas shrugs.

"Where did you learn Spanish and Portuguese, Cas?" Emma asks clearly curious and things just got really interesting.

"My brother and I, we traveled across Latin America for years. And we lived in Brazil for a long time." 

"I didn't know you had a brother..." Emma hums and keeps trying to figure out her next move.

"I have three brothers and a younger sister, actually."

"What are their names?"

"Raphael, Uriel, Gabriel and Anael."

"Oh, I get it. Angel names, nice. So, who did you travel with?"

"Gabriel."

"Where's he now?"

"He passed away."

"I'm sorry Cas," she looks up and her tone echoed everyone's thoughts. Sam and Dean exchange a meaningful look and then they both stare at me. I shrug. Wasn't my tale to tell.

"Thank you, Emma." Cas keeps his eyes locked down on the board.

"Do you miss him?"

"Everyday."

"Well, if you ever feel like sad, you can talk me. I can tell you what I do whenever I miss Grandma Ellen."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it," Cas' has to swallow hard. 

I take that as my cue and I scoop one sleepy Jack.

"I'm gonna get this one to bed," I announce.

Leen hands the stick with the marshmallow to Dean and stands up.

"And I need a shower," she stretches her arms over her head and then she follows me inside. I take Jack upstairs to his room and Leen helps me tug him in. He doesn't even twitch. Once we're back in the hallway, she turns to me.

"He's not what I expected," she signs me. 

"Tell me about it," I gesture.

"Get the bourbon," she taps my shoulder. 

* * *

DEAN

Maybe he was drunk. Maybe.

He tugged Emma almost two hours ago. Eileen said her goodbyes and left them alone soon after that. That was Sam and Bobby's cue to change to poker. Now they moved to some weird Japanese flower card game. Dean keeps feeding Smurfs, no, not Smurfs, S'MORES, haha, to Sam and Cas. Cas, who keeps poking at the bonfire with a stick, watching the tip catch fire and putting it off on the ground only to start again. Whatever bourbon Bobby brought, it was really good and long gone. So yes, maybe a little drunk. Cas nursed a beer bottle for hours. When he offered him to fetch another one, he quietly declined and mumbled something about meds. He wasn't drunk drunk, Irish drunk. Less than hammered, for sure; way more than buzzed, definitely. He was feeling kinda spacey but in a cozy way. But his mouth was showing signs of rebellion and unease. 

"What happened to Gabe?" He found himself asking at loud. 

Cas sighed but his voice doesn't falter: "Got himself killed." He points his fingers to his head like a gun.

Gabe got shot.

"Shit."

Cas takes a deep breath and shrugs.

"Did you get to see the Mayan Ruins?" He continues.

Cas nods.

"Nazca lines, Machu Picchu, Iguazu Falls, the Aconcagua?"

"Uh-huh, everything on the list," he keeps poking at the fire. 

"With the Baronesse?" Cas nods and smiles broadly. 

"She took us to the End of the World, Dean."

"Ha!" He pops a whole s'more-not-smurf into his mouth and starts chewing slowly. "I told you she would," he says around a mouth full. Of course she would.


	6. Valentine's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> I'm back. Back to this story that keeps writing itself in the back of my mind.
> 
> Do you have plans for Valentine's Day? I'm gonna catch a movie with some girlfriends. Among them, my BBF Ariadna (aka The Mermaid), the mom (or owner, if you wish) of Kafune, the real life cat who inspired Lenore.

> Those green eyes, serene as a lake
> 
> in whose calm waters one day I contemplated myself,
> 
> don't know about the sorrows left in my soul
> 
> by those green eyes that I will never forget
> 
> "Aquellos ojos verdes" by Paquita la del Barrio
> 
> [Take me to Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/track/3qvGMBkSq0m13UnvjMp6wO?si=m2Du8-hBTrWUqV5ffFvXhQ)!

NOW

"It's Pamela's birthday next Wednesday."

"Are you planning on doing something?"

"I was thinking maybe I could go to church. Y'know, light up a candle. Say a prayer."

"What's funny?"

"Those words outta my mouth."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I guess... I never really thought of myself as a religious person. Maybe it's just force of habit. Catholic school and all."

"Well, going to church seems like a good way to honor Pamela's memory."

"I guess. It's not like I can go to visit her tombstone and leave her flowers."

"Why not?"

"Don't know where she's buried."

"Would you like to know?"

"I don't feel like going back to Detroit to find out."

"So she's in Detroit?"

"Maybe. Probably. I don't, I don't know."

"Have you ever thought of yourself as a religious person?"

"Not really."

"If you had to pinpoint a moment..."

"Mmm... I think it all started when we moved in with Bobby. At St. Agnes we had these little like, moments throughout the day when you, when we got together and, we didn't actually pray, but. Fergus always talked about stuff, little stuff."

"How's that?"

"He took ten minutes at the beginning and at end of every day. At the Chapel. It was nice. He used to say it was our moment to think how we wanted to live our day and then think about how we actually lived it. Something like that. Maybe it was the Chapel itself, you know? It felt like a spiritual experience of some sort. Besides the actual religious part of the education."

"And before St. Agnes? Did you have spiritual moments like the one you just described?"

"I remember Mom used to say angels were watching over us. But. I'm not sure what she meant by that. I mean, whenever she said that, I don't think I truly understand, like. The idea of angels. And she wasn't religious. At least, I don't think she was. It's not like I remember much. I think it was one of those things people say, you know? We definitely didn't go to church, that's for sure."

"But she talked about angels with you?"

"I think she used to say a little prayer before putting me to bed. Something about angels. But not the _now I lay me down to sleep tune_... Something different. I had, I used to have nightmares. It was comforting, I guess."

"What about John? Did he share his beliefs with you?"

"Well. He didn't believe in anything. So..."

"He was an atheist?"

"No. I mean, yes, but, he didn't believe in anything in general. God. Angels. Religion. The government. Democrats, liberals, republicans. NRA. The law. Economy. Money. Capitalism, socialism, communism. Global warming. Conspiracy theories. NASA. Aliens. You name it. He didn't believe in it. Or at least, he acted like it didn't matter. If God existed or not, didn't change anything."

"Sounds as if life hadn't any intrinsic value on its own. Not only on a spiritual level, but all together."

"That's a really good way to put it. Disturbing, but. Spot on."

"Maybe it helped him to carry on with the kind of life he had."

"Definitely. Made him an exceptional crook."

"Did he show antisocial behavior?"

"You mean, was he a sociopath? I don't think so. He was just... not good at parenting."

"Do you think that's the opposite of being religious?"

"What?"

"You laughed at the idea of going to church to honor the memory of the closest thing you had to a mother figure, and you attributed it to being religious. Then you mentioned Mary and John. Mary might or might not have been a religious person, but she was a good person."

"Yes, yes she was."

"And Pamela, you said a while back she taught you everything you know, everything you needed to survive."

"Taught me how to suck dick, push pills and hustle."

"That sounds like surviving. Especially when you were the one who had to take care of your brother. But that's not all, is it? You told me she's the one who introduced you to Bobby."

"Yep. And she's also the reason I have Baby."

"See? There's more than to life than just surviving."

"I know."

"Do you, though?"

"C'mon, Tessa! You know I get it."

"Tell me something, Dean, what's funny about being religious? Or spiritual, for that matter."

"I don't think it's funny."

"You laughed."

"I know, it's just. I never thought I would. Like. Go to church. Willingly. With a purpose. On my own."

"For someone you loved deeply."

"Yeah."

"But it was always in you. To love deeply, that is. Most of the things you've done, you did them out of love. No doubt there were also very basic needs involved, but they were mostly connected to those you loved."

"Yeah... I, I know..."

"Does it surprise you that you turned out nothing like John?"

"I guess. I guess it does."

"Well, that's unfortunate."

"Why?"

"Because you were never like your father to begin with."

"I guess. I guess I forget that sometimes. But that's not. I got sidetracked. I wanted to tell you about the Baroness."

* * *

THEN

He keeps messing with the radio.

"Cas, I swear, just. Pick a damn station. _Please_."

"There's nothing half decent on, Dean. And before you start lecturing me: I don't feel like listening to your music," he snorts, turns off the radio altogether and turns to look out the window. Dean keeps sparing him sideway glances every other mile. He seems more than a little moody today. The rain drums against the car in a soothing rhythm and with no music, it's hard not to drift off.

"Is there any coffee left?"

Silence.

"Cas?"

"What?" He turns around.

"Wanna tell me what's going on, man?"

"Nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing."

Cas snorts.

"See, that's your angry snorting right there. C'mon, spill the beans."

"I'm not angry."

"_Right_."

Cas keeps struggling for a while with whatever it's on his mind and then finally he blurs out: "What's the deal with Bobby and motorcycles?"

_Oh. That._

"He doesn't like them."

"Yes, Dean, I get that much. But _why_?" Cas looks at him earnestly, like this is really important for him.

"His best friend Jesse got killed on his bike."

"Oh," Cas' stance deflates. "He... He didn't mentioned it."

"Do we ever mention those we've lost?"

"No, I guess not," Cas sighs and goes back to that little place inside his head. After a few more miles, Dean insists. 

"We still have a few hours to go, do you feel like stretching your legs? I can pull over on the next exit."

"Sure," he nods and goes quiet again.

Half an hour later, they pull up at a truck stop. After a quick visit to the boys room, (_Cas, for the love of God, stay away from glory holes!_) he gets to the convenient store as Cas takes a walk around the parking lot. Dean makes a bee line to the coffee machine and smack his lips in disappointed. The coffee has the consistency of an oil spill. Given the very sad caffeine situation, he rummages through the candy isles, picking gummy bears, a few Snickers bars, and gum. Next to the register there's a big plastic fish bowl with cassettes tapes for 99 cents and that definitely sparks his attention.

"Gotta love a good treasure hunt," he mutters to himself as he carefully goes through them. The big guy behind the counter chuckles at his comment and that's his cue. He looks up and sees a name tag.

"Amirite, Larry?" Dean grins widely at him.

CASTIEL

Three cigarettes later, Dean comes back with a shit eating grin. He opens the driver's door and tosses the plastic bag inside. He makes his way to him with the beaten Stanley tugged under his arm. He places it on top of the trunk and leans against the side of the car. 

"What took you so long?" He hands him the cigarette package.

"Got distracted," Dean shrugs, takes one out and pads his pockets. He makes the grabby hands and Cas has to dig the lighter from the front pocket of his jeans. 

"Dude, seriously. Quit stealing my shit," Dean sighs and pockets his Zippo. They smoke in comfortable silence for a while. The rain has since stopped. It's cold, cloudy and altogether a gloomy February day. Cas goes for the coffee and can't help a disappointed grunt when he realizes it's empty.

"Tought you were getting coffee?" He didn't mean to sound so childish, but it's been a somewhat _meh_ day.

"Yeah, didn't look so good. Wanna grab a good cup of joe?"

"Do we have the time?" 

Dean nods with that stupid grin still plastered on his face.

"Rufus said he expected us after 2 p.m., we can take a detour. Specially for coffee and pie."

"OK, Dean."

"You can throw me under the bus if we run late, don't worry."

"You'll deal with Rufus?"

"Of course, Cas. Don't worry. I got your back."

They finish their cigarettes and get back on the road. Apparently Dean seems to know exactly where he's going.

"Larry said this place has the best pecan pie," he says casually looking out the window.

_Don't frown at him._

"Who's Larry?" 

_Don't frown at him._

"Convenience store guy," he replies. That's so like Dean. Making friends in a heartbeat. Charming everyone on his wake.

"It should be... right... this... way... wait... wait... and... _there_! Aha!"

"I don't see any parking space," Cas points out. 

"Yeah, Larry said it might be packed. But worry not, 'cause I asked Vivian to call them ahead, so they should have our order ready to go. And before you ask, Vivian is Larry's special friend."

Cas has to huff, he has to.

"And no, that's not how I got distracted. You go inside and ask for Fred, I'm gonna drive around the block."

"Who's Fred?"

"Fred's the man. Here," he fishes some bucks out of his wallet. "And here," he hands him the Stanley. He slows down almost to a halt and Cas gets out and totally jaywalks to the dinner.

"Cas!" He turns around to see Dean rolling down the window. "Tip the man!" He yells and Cas nods. Then he watches as Dean slowly drives away.

He walks in and, sure enough, the place is _packed_. He manages to get to the counter where a middle aged brunette in a very pink uniform greets him.

"Hey, sweetie, what can I getcha?"

"Hi, I'm looking for Fred?"

"You the Angel?" She smiles like the Cheshire cat.

"Sorry, what?"

"It's you a'right, baby blues she said. I'm Fred, Vivian said you were coming. Lemme get that for you," she gestures for the thermos and Cas hands it reluctantly. She swirls on her heels and goes to the back, where she disappears for a minute and gets back with three containers.

"A'ight, birthday boy! One order of blueberry pancakes, one waffles and bacon, one pecan pie for dessert and fresh coffee for the road. Is that all?"

_Dean. Fucking. Winchester._

DEAN

He cruises by the dinner a third time and this time Cas is there holding a big paper bag with both hands, the Stanley tugged under his arm. He thought a second breakfast for lunch would cheer him up but apparently he was mistaken. He slows down and opens the passenger door to let him in.

"You told them it was my birthday!" Cas barks and sits down miraculously balancing all the food, thank God. He carefully puts the containers down on the seat and then practically shoves the coffee at him. "They sang to me, Dean. The whole freaking diner sang happy birthday to me. _And_ you said Fred was a man and she was certainly not!"

"Did not."

"You totally did!" Cas sounds pissed, but doesn't slams the door, because he definitely knows better than to take it out on Baby. Dean picks up some speed as they return to the barely existing traffic.

"I said Fred is the man. You don't need to be _a man_ to be _the man_. And you know birthday boys gets extra everything on their order."

"And she asked me if I was an angel!"

_Oh._

"Look, Cas," he begins. "Honest misunderstanding, OK? I said you were _named _after an angel, not that you were an angel. It's not like. They didn't. Just. Chinese telephone, man."

"And then Fred told me Vivian told her I was feeling 'a little blue' because _my girlfriend_ is going away to college---"

"Never said Sam was a girl," he chuckles.

"So Fred explained me in excruciating detail _everything_ Jesus can do for me, including but not limited to, help me with my most primal urges, and, of course, how to have a healthy Christian long distance relationship."

Now he has to laugh at loud.

"It's not funny, Dean."

"I think that's pretty damn funny."

"You're such a jerk."

_That actually hurt-hurts._

"Oh c'mon! You _know_ the art it's in the details. You need to chill, man."

"Don't tell me to fucking chill! This is _exactly_ what Sam means!"

_Oh hell no._

Under any circumstances he'll endure _the tone_ from Castiel. He'll be damn if he does. He hits the gas, pulls up and hastily hits the breaks. Cas obviously didn't see that coming because when he turns to face him, he's staring back, eyes wide open.

"You don't get to talk to me like that, y'hear me? You're not my _brother_!"

_Oh fuck. _

Cas snorts, squints and looks the other side.

"Believe me. _I know_," he mutters through gritted teeth.

"That. That came out wrong."

_Breath, just breath. _

"That's not. Look. Let's start over. OK? I was, I was just trying to cheer you up, a'ight? I just thought. We could. I didn't. I didn't mean to. _Fuck_." He can feel his voice trembling. 

_Just say it. Just fucking say it God damnit!_

"I'm sorry, Cas."

_You fucking coward._

"I didn't mean to upset you."

Cas keeps his back turned but his shoulders sag a little.

"We should eat, before it gets cold," he looks around. He seems to have parked on someone's driveway. 

"Maybe not in Darren and Karen's driveway."

He pulls out and starts to make his way back to the interstate. Maybe he can find that park he saw on the way to the dinner. Hopefully, the scenery will help up with the mood. Probably not. Shit. Shit. _Fuck_. Years of carefully and thoughtfully phrasing everything that comes out of his mouth to blow up over one stupid breakfast.

_I hate Valentine's day._

SAM

Lenore's all curl up, purring softly on my chest and I'm absolutely enjoying the quiet. But then I hear the Impala coming down the driveway. I glance at the clock above the mantel. It's a little after ten. I suspect that Dean must have fucked it up somehow because I wasn't expecting them at all. Either he fucked up with Rufus or he fucked up with Cas. I sprawl further on the couch and keep on reading, one hand on the book, one hand petting Lenore. A moment later, I hear the water running in the upstairs bathroom. Cas can be a stealthy son of a bitch when he wants to, but if he went straight upstairs, well, that's a red flag right there. A solid five minutes later, Dean makes his way to us, beer in hand. He hovers over the couch for a second, Lenore coos like a pigeon and that's his cue to pick her up.

"Hey! We're reading!"

He hands me the beer and holds Lenore closer to his chest.

"She did the bird thing, fair game," he shrugs and pops down the armchair with a sigh. I put down the book, sit down and take a sip of the beer. Lenore purrs louder and Dean starts to rub his face all over her.

"Why do you smell so good, huh?" He coos with his face buried in her belly.

"So, how was your _trip_?" If Dean wishes to continue to believe that we bought his _it's a business trip not a date _charade, well then, who am I to say otherwise, right? I mean, I guess I can wait for another five minutes until I call on his bluff.

He pads his shirt pockets and comes up with a nice stack of Polaroids.

"I think we have a few good candidates," he hands me the pictures over the coffee table and I hand him the beer. OK, the 'candidates' look like a pile of rusty crap, but I'm not going to comment on that and have him lecturing me all over again. 

_For the scavenger eye, Sammy, there's a secret beauty to all things. Of course, you're just too rational to let yourself be capture by it. _

On the back of every picture Cas wrote the model, year and price of the car, and damn if Dean's not good at bargaining. Then he added some comments like 'busted transmission', 'smells funny' (_like cheese!_ a side comment in Cas handwriting), 'impeccable chassis', 'original chrome details', 'awesome wood panels', 'purrs louder than Lenore' (_I disagree_, Cas inputs). 

"I like this one."

"The 78 Lincoln Continental?"

"Yeah, the Midnight Cowboy pimp car."

"Actually, it's in pretty good shape. Thought Cas would like it, but he didn't sound that excited about it."

"Of course not, he wants a motorcycle."

He frowns.

"Since _when_?"

"Since ever. Why do you think he keeps studying Spanish?" 

Dean's frown deepens.

"Telenovelas?"

"He wants to travel around Latin America, like Che Guevara." 

He's totally in the dark.

"You know who Che is, right Dean?"

Now he glares at me. 

"I know the guy. I just. I didn't know."

I give him the _you need to pay more attention to your boyfriend_ look but I think he missed it.

"So, that's why he ask Bobby for a bike?" He hums.

"Yeah, and you know how that went."

"But. Cas didn't. He didn't say anything about _wanting_ a bike."

"Of course not. You've been trying to get him a car since senior year."

He sighs and Lenore coos again. I think even the cat knows.

"I thought..." He trails off.

"I know what you thought, Dean. Tell me somethin', did you bother to actually _ask_?" Yes, I'm using _the tone_, but he's too clueless to notice.

"Seriously, Dean? How many times do we have to have this conversation? You _never_ ask. You just go ahead with whatever plan you have in mind and you expect everyone else to follow through, no explanations, no context whatsoever, we just have to 'roll with it'. Or else."

"That's not true!"

"Everything with you it's a freaking leap of faith."

He _tsks_.

"And you're always cooking something, scheming, pulling rabbits out of thin air."

"C'mon! Now you're overreacting."

"No, you're belittling your shitty attitudes."

"Just because you _obviously_ had a crappy night, Sammy, doesn't mean you should take it on me, y'know?"

"And now your deflecting, good job."

"Fuck you," he hisses back. Now I feel those five minutes are definitely up.

"Did you even ask Cas if he wanted a car? No, you did not. Did you ask him if he wanted to spend Valentine's day on a quote-unquote _business trip with you_, checking a car he doesn't even want two states away? No, you did not. Because you don't ask, you never do, and you never say what's on your mind. But you expect obedience. And that's OK by me, because fuck you, I've been dealing with you my whole life and I can take it. But you know, _you know_, that's not fair to Cas."

"What? What are you? His lawyer or something?"

"No, I'm the closest thing he has to a brother right now."

"And I'm not!?"

"You tell me."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You keep bossing him around and dragging him along like he's your fucking pet!"

"No, I don't!"

"_Right_."

"In case you forgot, that's what families do, they hang out, spend time together!"

"No, you and I, _we_ are family. Cas and I, _we_ are family. You and Cas? Dude, you seriously need to stop deluding yourself, OK? Put your shit together and get it right, Dean. Seriously."

"I'm not deluding myself! Why would you say that!?" 

"For fuck's sake, Dean! Do I have to spell it out for you!?"

"Well, fuck you very much, you self-righteous little cunt!"

"Nice. _Outstanding_ performance, man. Thoughtful, mature. Way to go." 

"Patronizing asshole."

"I'm sure Cas had a lovely date with you."

I stand up, pick up my book and let him to stew in his own mess. What strikes me as odd is that I manage to say quite a lot and he didn't actually throw a fit as he usually does when we talk about feelings, especially when Cas is part of the equation. If I had to guess, I'd say something definitely happened today and he was already wore off, _or_, and this would be actually pretty awesome, though sadly unlikely, something inside Dean is shifting towards, and hopefully, some actual personal growth and emotional development. I'll be damned. Maybe Dean is turning into a real boy.

I knock on Cas door and wait for his response. I get nothing.

"It's me," I clarify just in case. Then I hear footsteps and some shuffling inside. He opens the door, fresh out of the shower, and lets me in. I leave the door ajar behind me, just in case. 

"How was your date with Rebecca?" He turns his back to me, as he dries his hair with a towel. He's already in his pijamas pants, no t-shirt and I can't help to wince at the scars on his back.

"_Meh_," I aim to his bed and pop down with a thump. "The only conversation topic was either school or people from school," I pick one of his pillows and tug it behind my back. "I now have an absurdly extend knowledge about Lincoln High wildlife."

He chuckles and pops down on the chair.

"Good Intel, bad timing. Shame."

"And you know what? I got the impression she was disappointed when she saw me. Like something inside of her clicked and she was like _oh, this guy_."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Maybe she didn't approve your fashion choices." He gestures my PJ'S.

I throw him another pillow and he doesn't even flinch when it hits him square in the face. He laughs and throws it back at me. Cas is a pillow hoarder. His bed looks more like a nest than a bed.

"Maybe she has a thing for uniforms, you know?" He continues. "Catholic school uniforms kinda add an interesting layer of perversion."

"Great, good to know I'm a perv magnet on weekdays."

He chuckles and shrugs.

"Or maybe she was expecting you in your soccer gear, you know? Those long socks are really somethin'."

"I was blessed with sexy knees, I'd understand _that_."

"So, what movie did you watch?"

"Some mainstream boring chick flick."

"Was anything of your liking?"

"I thought I would enjoy dinner, but we had to skip it. She had a curfew."

"And she didn't tell you that beforehand?"

"Nope. Only when I asked her where did she wanted to go for dinner."

"So you didn't make reservations?"

"It's Sioux Falls, Cas. Not downtown Manhattan. You don't need reservations."

He nods like this is news to him. Damnit. Was he ever even out on a date?

"So I drive her home," I continue. "And parked on the driveway, _so ready_ to call it a night and suddenly things got wild, Cas. Like, _really_ wild. She jumped me, don't laugh! I was assaulted! I had my seat belt, stop laughing! I had, I swear, I still had my seat belt on because safety first and I thought we were _so not_ in the same page, but she was in a different book altogether apparently, it's not funny, Cas! She went berserk on me and I was helpless! She bit me, look! -I point out to my busted lip- And then I see her mom lurking outside the porch and I'm like, _hey your mom is watching please stop licking my face_, and for a second I thought she was into that, but thank _God_ she got out of the car!"

"That actually supports my theory of Becky being a kinky young woman."

"I guess? A heads up would have been nice."

"Yeah, I don't think that's the way you go on your first date. But it could have been worse, Sam. Imagine her dad knocking on your window, pointing at his watch, or pointing a gun at you. At least her mom was at a safe distance. And unarmed as far as you can tell. I call that a win."

"I guess it could have been worse... Thanks man, I kinda feel better now? Still deeply disturbed, but..."

Cas is chuckling, amused with my distress.

"I just didn't think she had it in her, y'know? Like, she's always so collected."

"At the Model UN meetings, Sam. What did you expect? She's Sweden!"

"Maybe it's the Viking blood? I thought it would be more Ingmar Bergman, less..."

"Almodóvar?"

"Yes! Exactly! Definitely more Juana than Kika."

Cas leans on his chair, still laughing. And I don't feel like damping the ambiance, but I might as well.

"How about you? How was your trip?"

He growls, I swear Cas _growls_ and cover his face with his hands.

"Your brother can be so frustrating," he mutters through his fingers.

"Winchester trade mark, darling. Listen," I sit up straight. "Really, Cas," he looks up at me, brow all meshed together.

"I'll be in Stanford next fall," he squints at me. 

"I know that, Sam," he snorts. We kinda have been avoiding that conversation.

"And you know that means I'm not gonna be around to be the buffer between you two. You're gonna have to deal with... _whatever_ -I gesture the space around us- _this_ is on your own. And you can't let Dean, _you can't_ let him get away with everything, OK? I know he thinks he's doing what's best by everyone, but you and I know it's a bit of a hit and miss with him."

Cas nods and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"I'll be out of the woods after May. So, it's not like we'll have Billie breathing down our neck anymore, right? And, honestly, Cas, I don't feel like going on a road trip to the Grand Canyon just to play the child of divorced parents and-or the awkward third wheel, best case scenario."

I see how a blush starts to creep over Cas' chest and neck. I'm about to comment on that, but I hear the stairs creaking. So I get out of the bed to crouch by his side, taking his hands and Cas' eyes are open wide, because I'm so in for shock therapy right now. Lenore walks in cooing and goes straight to Cas, but I don't let go of his hands. Now he's squinting hard on me, face all red. So when I see a shadow past the door frame, I nod, get up, let go of his hands to ruffle his hair and walk out the door, walking by Dean, who's frozen by the threshold. I can tell he's fuming and that's just hilarious. He might be a self-proclaimed sex God, but I'm top notch boyfriend material, and he can't argue with that. 

DEAN

He knows Sam's doing it on purpose. He _knows_. And he hates the fact that Sam's also right. And he hates that Sam can push all his buttons like the fucking sadistic asshole he is. But he also knows that this is Sam calling him on his bluff. And that's even more upsetting, more so than when he sees Sam all over Cas' personal space like it's not a big deal, because it's not a big deal for _Sam_, but the _way_ Cas seems so fucking comfortable with it, so at ease, so responsive, so vulnerable even. And they are always fucking _talking_ about _everything_ in the fucking world, and OK, at first he thought it was a school thing, that kind of thing trigger by circumstances, and he couldn't exactly complain because that was exactly how he finished high school, just by listening to them talk, but that was _then_, Cas graduated two years ago but they keep that up, the readings, the weird German movies or whatever. And _yes_, Dean knows he sounds like a jealous douche. And he hates that too. But all he can do, or so it seems, it's crawl inside his own skin and just hope and wait for those little fleeting moments when he can have Cas all to himself. Oh, those moments. Jesus. That's all he wants but it's never enough, goddamnit! Most of the time it's just this, the three of them, with any luck, and yes, he feels excluded more often than not, but then again, he's too damn stupid to follow their conversations anyways, and even when he manages to read that book or watch one of those snobby movies with them it's not like he can actually comment about it, because he's always paying attention to the wrong things, to the little things, like the way the author uses punctuation marks or the character's voice or tells, or the freaking color palettes. And it was OK when Charlie was here, because they had their own thing, but now Charlie's away, _MIT bitches_, doing her thing, just like he taught her, and she's having a lot of fun, _thanks Dean_, but he's here, he's still here, without her, and it's hard, it's really hard without Charlie, it's hard to keep up with the world and he feels small, so small, insignificant and lost sometimes, and that sense of purpose, like that of his glory days in the swimming team, is gone, gone the glory and the praise, and he's really trying to get his shit together, of course, because he's still good at _something_, he's good with cars, he's really good and the word is getting out, and some come looking for him, because he's _that good,_ and he's getting better at it, so when someone it's like _hey, I'm looking for a nice muscle car_, and even if they have a tight budget, he will get the job done, and he'll get it _just right_, 'cause he knows people, he knows how to please people, and he's making money, for the first time in his life he's making _honest_ money doing something he loves, and even if Bobby said he doesn't need to, that they will figure it out together, he will pay for Sammy's education, 'cause spite the fact Sammy got a scholarship, boy's a genius, he's still gonna need money, Cali is expensive, and he can provide for _that_. He can take care of Sammy. He can still take care of his brother, even when Sammy didn't ask for it, even when he clearly doesn't think he needs it, Dean will take care of him, because that's _his job_. He can protect his family... All of his family, 'cause family don't end in blood, like Bobby always says, and he believes in that, he knows that's _true_, and why the hell are they laughing so much? What's so fucking funny? Why can he be the one making Cas laugh like that, huh? He fucking used to, he didn't imagine _that_. What changed? What changed between them? What changed between him and Sam? Sam used to _worship_ him, now he barely knows what's going on with him. And that's just heartbreaking. Yes, it is. That's the problem. Dean's heart is breaking (_you got a good heart, kid_). Why does he feel like he's drowning all the time, like he just can't get enough oxygen in him? Like that awful time when Gordon, that fucking asshole, knocked the wind out of him and put his filthy boot right on his throat, and kept saying _what's the matter boy, speak up, pretty boy, speak_, and Dad was just _watching_ him turn blue, God, he hate that mother fucker! _Don't go there, don't go there, don't go there, you're not there anymore, those days are over! _(_Stop deluding yourself, Dean_). He said the same thing. Sam couldn't have known. _Shit_. But why was Sammy so _angry_? Why was he so upset with him? He didn't do anything! Not on purpose at least. _Liar, liar, liar_. Shit. He keeps messing things up, why does he keep messing things up? _Fuckfuckfuck!_ The tricks, the fucking tricks and the lies and the games and the bullshit, it's like he can't turn it off, he can't, it's hardwired in him, like a default setting, always testing the waters, seeing how far he can go without real consequences, how much he can push the boundaries, (_'cause you love to get away with everything, doncha boy?_)(_Shuddap_!) (_Tell me somethin, Dean, how long, how long do you think you can keep that up, huh? How long before it's too much, too far, too late?_)

"Owww! Lenore! What the hell!?" She purrs and licks the same finger she just chewy. She wants to play rough. He can play along. It's not like she's gonna actually hurt him. Unlike Sam, who keeps sassing him with that attitude, and then tries to turn things on him, like he's the one baring his teeth all the time. Shit. Shit. Shit. But Sammy's right. He's fucking right. When did he actually become this petty little asshole everyone think he is? Why can he just fit like he used to? Why not? Why not him? Why is so hard to hang out with them? Why can't he be with them without pissing off one or the other, or both? When did he become so unbearable to be around? So disgusting? So unwanted? Ohmygod! What the fuck are they doing upstairs? It's worse when they're quiet. So much worse. Stay. Stay right here. Stay. No, not gonna happen. He has to see. He has to know. Lenore will be his backup. Lenore will play along.

"Let's go find your father," he makes his way up the stairs. Lenore's attention sparks, she already knows Cas is in his bedroom so she wiggles out of his grip and runs ahead. The door is ajar, and he can get a glimpse of the room. His heart sinks. Sam is crouching besides Cas. He has his back turned to the door, and Dean can see his scars, because Cas has no problem at all when it comes to Sam, _of course_, he can be shirtless, but not with him, he's always too self-aware with Dean, like he can't relax around him, and _of course_ Sam would have that smug expression plastered on his stupid face and _of course_ he would ruffle Cas hair before leavings the room, walking by him without a word, all smug and tall, because _of course_ Sam knows Dean was there. And this is the part where he should be angry at his brother, because he's acting like a _bitch_, but he can't, he actually can't be mad at him because all of this, _all of this_ is his own damn fault.

"Cas?" He knocks lightly on the door frame. His heart breaks a little further when Cas goes stiff at the sound of his voice. He hastily gets up, with his back to him, and goes for his dresser.

"Can I come in?" Cas nods but only after he gets a t-shirt on, he turns to meet his eyes. 

"I just. I never told why I took so long back at the gas station," he takes the two cassette tapes out of the pocket of his shirt. "I got you somethin," he takes a few steps towards him with his hand stretched out. Cas squints at him but reaches out to grab them. His face lights up.

"Thank you, Dean."

Something with the consistency of a brick settles on his throat. He swallows hard.

_Happy Valentine's, Cas._

He manages a nod and something along the lines of a reassuring smile, and then he's out the door.

CASTIEL

He looks at the tapes Dean got for him. _Madam Across the Water_ and _14 Boleros famosos_.

"Thank you, Dean," he almost mutters, feeling a strange fire creeping up in his chest. Dean looks somewhat between upset and uncomfortable and then he's out of his room.

He didn't tell him. He told Sam, naturally, when his reading inclinations started to show. He always shared his readings with Sam. It was almost natural to share _The Plan_ with Sam because Sam would understand _The Plan_. But he didn't share it with Dean. Because Dean has a tendency to make things happen. And it's not just _A Plan_, it's _Gabriel's Plan_, and that's... _Different_. Because that's something he can't talk about. Because you don't talk about those you've lost. 

_Listen, you gotta finish the list, a'ight? Just pick it up where we left off and take it from there. It has to be a long one, little brother, enough to get us going for years. And don't worry, a'right? I'll be out and about in no time. And I'll get back to you, I promise, I'm gonna getcha and, nonono, don't cry Cassie, please, we'll be out of this hell, just you and me, baby boy, and the road ahead of us, just like we planned. I promise. Just hang on, yeah? You promise? Don't, don't worry. Listen, I don't, I don't have much time. Listen, do your homework, OK? We're gonna need a bigger map and snacks, don't forget the snacks! And get your books straight! Yeah? You promise? That's what I'm talking about, baby bro! You and me, Cassie! Viva la revolución!_

He got the Walkman and played the Bolero mix first. It was actually very nice. He would have to look up for some of the lyrics, though, just to make sure. He laughed so much when he got to the B side and the first song was _Aquellos ojos verdes_, which if he remembered correctly, translated to _t__hose green eyes_ and of course Dean would get it right even when he didn't actually planned it. He felt asleep listening to Elton John. As he was drifting off, he wonder if Dean would let him play this tape on his next drive.

* * *

NOW

"Does it bother you?"

"Which part?"

"You tell me."

"I wasn't expecting---no, that's not. That's not true. Let me. I'll start over."

"It's OK, Dean. Take your time."

"OK. Yes. I knew about his plan. I knew. And the list. Sure. I mean, I put together his bike so he could make it happen. I knew it was important for him. And yes, he kinda implied it was his brother's idea.Gabriel. It was Gabriel's idea."

"You said it was implied? He didn't discuss it with you?"

"Of course not. Everything about his family was implied with Cas. Implied, hinted, presumed. All subtext and nuances. He never, _ever_ talked about the Krushnic clan. Not to me, not to Sam. Not to anyone. Everything I ever knew was through Bobby. And everything meant very little. I mean, I knew Raphael was a psycho. My dad, uhm, my dad actually mentioned him once or twice over the years, can't remember the context. But, yeah, guy got a rep. But Cas. Not one word about it."

"But you knew he was the one who hurt him."

"I gathered that much. But Cas never told me. And I did asked. More than once over the years."

"And?"

"Nothing. Not a peep."

"I imagine, and only from what you told me, of course, that it must have been a very traumatic experience for him."

"To put it mildly."

"And what did you know about Gabriel, besides this trip?"

"Nothing much. Didn't even knew how he looked like as a grown-up. Cas had exactly two pictures. One of his Grandma, from the Novak side of the family I think, and one of Gabriel with him as a baby. Gabriel was probably seven or eight and Cas one, maybe two years old. And that was it."

"Until last week..."

"Until last week, when Emma begins with the questions and he just..."

"Answers?"

"Exactly. He answers. He was kinda, uhm, medicated. So, that was probably it. I don't know. But, as it turns out, they did travelled around Latin America, and lived in Brazil for some time. And Gabriel passed away, sometime along the way. And then, later, I gotta tell ya, Tessa, I was, y'know, kinda drunk, not my finest moment. But. Whatever. I just. I ask. What happened with Gabe. And, he goes 'Gabe got himself killed'. And points to his head. Like, he got shot. And I didn't even say _I'm sorry, Cas_. I just. I asked him about the list and if they got the chance to see all those places. And he says 'yes'. With the bike. Y'know. The Baroness. And I'm. I was proud. But then, the next day. Not so much. I woke up and it hit me. Because. I don't understand. I just don't know what to make of. Shit, everything. Like, did he just ditch us to follow his dream? To have this great adventure with his brother, drive into the sunset, wind in your hair and shit? Because. He left without a word. He _left_. And then the police showed up. And some dude from the FBI. And they were. They told us that Uriel, Cas' other brother, like, Raphael's second in command, had turned out dead. And they were looking for Cas. And of course it wasn't a coincidence. And. I knew. I knew it couldn't be all rainbows and unicorns and fajitas. It's not like. I mean. I kinda thought so. Even hope so. But Gabriel got shot. And. Cas had drug issues. Sam told me. And. It's not exactly. That's not exactly what you would expect things to turn out. It's not like I was hoping that life turned out great for him or the other way around. I didn't know what to expect. I was obviously expecting _something_. I don't know. I don't know _what_. I don't know what to make of this. And. I just want to know what the hell happened. I _need_ to know what happened. Because. I can't. I can't stay mad. I don't wanna be angry. I don't want to go back to that. I. I came a long way. And. And this is just throwing me off. It's fucking me up, I can't even think straight. I'm. I'm getting back to. I'm."

"You're fixating."

"Yes. Yes. And I hate it. It's not. It's not an option. I can't. And I won't. Nope. I was OK, doing pretty good all things considered, and then he shows up and everything goes to hell again. And it's not fucking fair. And I feel. I feel, like, I'm back. Back to that moment. Heartbroken and alone. And I feel helpless. I'm helpless. Again. Trying not to drown. Again."

"Dean, take a deep breath. You're not drowning. You're not helpless. And you're not alone."

"I know. I know."

"Just take a deep breath."

"What really bothers me, Tess, besides everything, y'know. It's. What he said to me that night."

"The night of his birthday?"

"What? No. The night I went to Bobby's house to pick up Emma. I asked him if there was someone after him. He said no one was after him. And that that was the whole point. _The whole point_. And now I know. Well, sorta. But, whatever. I was right. He left because of his family, whatever that means. Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel. I don't know. He didn't _just_ left. But. We. We could have. Whatever it was, whatever drove him away. I'm sure we could have fixed it. Somehow. We could have fix it."

"And that's what bothers you the most?"

"Yes."

"Why, Dean?"

"Because..."

"Because?"

"Because we had a chance! A snowball's chance in hell, maybe. Sure. But. We had. We. We could. FUCK!"

"What, Dean?"

"WE COULD HAVE BEEN HAPPY!"


End file.
